Off Balance
by RRSherlock
Summary: Set mid-season 3. Someone doesn't like Samantha and Martin's new relationship and will do anything to stop it.
1. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Something happened in the chapter titles for chapters 1, 2 & 3. IGNORE the chapter numbers for those three--the story is in correct order!!

**Setting:** Early Season 3— Sam and Martin have already gone to the wedding, but the story starts about the time of "Trials" (3.9)—yes, I know, I moved the wedding for the sake of storytelling. So basically, all's right in the world—especially with Sam and Martin open about their relationship.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

**Rating:** PG-13 for situations not suited for children

I'll be simul-positng on Destined so don't be confused.

**Summary: **Someone doesn't think Samantha and Martin's relationship is a good thing…and will do whatever it takes to have what he wants.

The Friday morning after her and Martin's long weekend in DC for his cousin's wedding, Samantha walked back to her desk, gratefully sipped her coffee, closed her eyes and urged the caffeine to speed its way through her veins. "Late night?" a voice whispered seductively in her ear. She opened her brown eyes to meet his blue ones, "Early morning," she countered just as seductively.

Martin laughed throatily on his way to his own desk, smiling to see she brought him a cup as well.

Jack was upstairs in a meeting and with no new cases Danny, Vivian, Martin and Samantha worked quietly at their own desks completing several cases worth of back paperwork. After a couple of hours, Samantha stretched loudly and was rewarded with three chuckles. "Break time?" she asked, turning her chair.

Vivian also stretched—silently—and nodded in agreement, "Definitely! I need something more than old coffee! Whose turn is it?"

"Danny's!" Martin quickly replied.

"Yeah, it's my turn," he said as he stood and rotated his head to ease the neck muscles, "What does everyone want?" Danny headed to the elevators with the list of orders in hand. He was about to head into the elevator when a delivery guy asked for Sam Spade. Danny quickly signed for the package and headed back to the bullpen.

"Hey, either that was the fastest bagel run in history or you forgot your wallet," Martin teased.

Danny shook his head, "Nah, I haven't gone yet. I just wanted to bring Sam her package," and he handed her a long white flower box tied with a red ribbon.

"Who sent it?" Sam asked, looking at Martin.

"Don't look here, Sam," Martin held his hands up, "You don't like getting flowers for flowers' sake."

Vivian came closer, "Is there a card?"

Samantha looked the package over, "Not on the outside." She set the box on the table and undid the ribbon. She opened the box and gasping she quickly buried her face in Martin's chest.

Danny reached over and plucked the small card from the dead roses. He handled it carefully as to not damage any fingerprints left on the envelope. He pulled the card, read it and blanched.

Vivian took it from his fingers and read aloud, "_'I haven't forgotten you. Why have you forgotten me? Look for me soon!_'" She swallowed and then went into FBI mode, all thoughts of a mid-morning snack forgotten, "Danny, take all this over to forensics. See if they can get anything off the box or the card. Martin, stay here with Samantha, but call up to Jack."

"Where are you going?" Martin asked as she gathered up her badge and gun.

"I'm going to find that delivery guy!"

Martin just nodded and reached for a phone, "Jack? Sorry to disturb your meeting, but we've got a little situation down here."

"What's so important to disrupt a meeting with Olczyk and Van Doren?" he asked gruffly.

"Sam's got a stalker," he said quietly.

"I'll be down in ten."

"Thanks, Jack," Martin hung up and eased into a chair, pulling Samantha onto his lap. His shirt was quite damp, but it didn't matter. He rubbed her back and tried to reassure her, "It'll be alright. We'll find him."

After nearly ten minutes Samantha pulled back and looked him in the eyes, "I'm happy. Why does something always happen when I'm happy?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know Sam," he replied honestly. "But we won't stop until we figure out who this creep is and stop him. You know that, right?"

She nodded, "Yeah. I just wish that…"

"It was clean," Danny interrupted. "Nothing on the box, the card, the envelope, nothing. I'm sorry, Sam," Danny sank into a chair. "Viv back yet?"

At that moment, Jack walked in. He took in a dejected Danny, a worried Martin and a weepy Samantha, "Ok, fill me in."

Martin nodded to Danny to speak, "Ok, so I was about to go for a bagel run when this delivery guy walked off the elevator…and Viv's not back from interviewing yet," he finished summing up the morning's events.

"Right," Jack ran his hand across his face, "Let's go back over some of our cases—see if anything pops."

Martin kissed Sam's temple and helped her into her own chair, "I'll go grab the last 12 monthly case lists and get started."

Danny handed Sam a box of tissue and gave her shoulder a squeeze, "I'll start looking from our first cases, ok?"

"I want you to think of anything—no matter how trivial—that might have seemed out of place lately," Jack directed Sam. "Nothing's too small at this point. And let me know when Viv gets back." He headed off to his office and closed the door.

Sam wiped her eyes and grabbed a legal pad and pen. She started listing the small details that she had dismissed out of hand as part of living in New York—as part of living in any big city. At the top of the list were the strange phone calls that she had been receiving this week. Her apartment phone would ring once and then stop. She had tried 69, but as the call didn't fully register, there was no reverse number to reference. At least her cell wasn't plagued with the same calls. Whoever was doing this, only had her home number.

Almost two hours later Vivian returned and in pure frustration, threw her badge at her desk rather than putting it in her drawer as she normally did. The crash brought Jack out of his office and he joined the team in the bullpen for her report.

"What's wrong, Viv?" Martin asked.

She sunk into a chair and accepted the cup of coffee Danny handed her with a quick smile of thanks, "The delivery guy, Pete Jordan, got his orders from the florist. Other than a delivery to this building for Sam, he knows nothing. The florist, on 9th Avenue, was even less help." She took a moment to sip some of the coffee and calm her frustration. "It seems that someone ordered a dozen roses for Samantha a month ago, but paid in cash and left no name on record. The clerk who took the order moved back to Iowa last week, so there's no ID-ing the purchaser. Why the flowers weren't delivered then, no one at the shop seems to know. All they could tell me was that the box turned up on the delivery shelf this morning and they decided to follow though as the order was already paid for. That's all."

"Good work, Vivian," Jack complemented her.

"'_Good work'_? Like hell! We still don't know a thing except this guy knows where Sam works and her home phone number!" Danny couldn't believe Jack.

Vivian reached over and rubbed his arm, "But we eliminated Pete and the florists. That counts for something."

"Yeah, I guess," Danny threw her a sheepish look, "Sorry if I implied you didn't do something productive, Viv."

"Not to worry, Danny."

"Well, I think I may have found a few possibilities," Martin started. "My first choice is the postal worker from last July."

Samantha's eyes widened in shock, Jasper Hunt had stalked a woman on his route for months before kidnapping her and holding her in his family's cabin upstate.

"Cross him off, Martin," Jack shook his head, "He was my first thought too, but I called Elmira and he's still there—and will be for the next twenty to twenty-five years. What else?"

Martin checked his list, "Aaron Pierson."

"Uh, Martin?" Danny looked puzzled, "I shot him, remember? He's dead."

"Yeah, Danny, I remember," Martin looked to his partner, "But his brother, Alan, isn't."

"So shouldn't Alan come after me?" Danny was puzzled, "Sam wasn't anywhere near the park when I shot Aaron."

"But I interviewed him," Sam said quietly. "I pushed him to do the right thing so we could find that little boy. Alan gave up Aaron and look what happened."

Jack looked around the table, "Let's see where this goes. Danny, take Viv and go check out Alan Pierson's house. Martin, check his phone records. Sam, let's go see if Alan's at work."

"Jack," Martin stopped his boss, "Why doesn't Sam stay here. I'll go with you."

"Do you think she can't handle it?"

Martin looked at Samantha and shook his head, "No, I don't. But why send her out? Why risk it?"

Sam smiled at Martin. She knew he didn't think she was weak and that gave her confidence and warmed her heart.

"I think Samantha needs to come with me on this one," Jack retorted, "Unless you don't feel up to it, Sam."

"I'll be ok," she answered. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, Sam whispered, "Don't worry."

"I always worry."

Jack was halfway to the elevators, "Let's go, Samantha!"

"Don't worry!" she whispered, grabbing her jacket.

Alan Pierson was a dead end. He was at work. Hadn't missed a day since taking a week off after his brother's death. His phone records told a similar story. He had never called Samantha. He didn't even remember her name until she and Jack showed up at his accounting firm. And, according to his secretary, Alan had never even entertained the notion of sending flowers. To anyone. For any occasion. A total dead end.

The team reassembled in the bullpen. "Well, it's almost six. Let's call it a night—hell, let's call it a weekend unless something comes up," Jack closed the file and looked at Sam. "Don't go anywhere alone until we figure this out, ok?"

Martin helped her into her jacket, "Not a problem, Jack. I have no intention of letting her out of my sight." And he led her to the elevators, his hand resting on her lower back.

He would let her think he had forgotten her. He refrained from sending her the teddy bear—maybe in a week or two, when she thought all was back to normal. He refocused the telephoto lens towards her bedroom window and tried to see past the fluttering curtains. Was _he_ with her? Why the hell was she with _him_? Didn't she understand that she was his and not this interloper's? Just a couple of more days to relax, then he'd spring something else on her. Make her come crawling to him, begging. He smiled to himself and snapped the shutter.


	2. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

The following Tuesday a big case came in—five kindergartners missing from a field trip to the Museum of Natural Science. It kept the team running nearly 48 hours straight. They all collapsed, literally, once the kids were found, unharmed, but halfway to Canada. Somehow they had escaped their chaperone and found their way into one of the trucks heading to Toronto with a traveling exhibit. There had been ten very grateful and relieved parents showering the team with their thanks.

At the office, Samantha noticed the teacher, Tanya Stockton, still sitting in the hallway after all of the kids and parents left. Her heart went out to the woman not much younger than herself.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Sam laid her hand on the teacher's arm.

Tanya shook her head, "Yes, it was." She turned her head to look at Samantha, "My principal said I was nuts to take 5-year-olds to the Museum. That they wouldn't get anything out of it. I insisted. I said that he underestimated the knowledge my students could absorb from seeing first hand the models of the planets and atoms and that it would help them understand so much better the concept of 'big.' I pushed and look what happened!"

"Ms. Stockton, you had the best intentions in mind for your students. It truly wasn't your fault they decided to ditch their chaperone—who was Michael's own mother—and go exploring," Sam mentioned one of the missing kids. "I suspect that Michael got the idea from his older brother Brandon. I talked with him you know. Brandon said that he _might_ have mentioned ditching out from a field trip in front of his little brother." Sam made sure to make eye contact, "That's guy code for 'I confess I did tell him exactly that!'"

"I had Brandon in kindergarten. It was my second year. He gave me a run for my money. Up until two days ago, I hadn't had a problem with Michael," she looked back at Sam and laughed, "I would not want to be either of those two boys right now!"

Samantha smiled, "Neither would I. Feel better?"

"Much. Thank you Agent Spade," Tanya stood and rubbed her eyes. "I think I'll call in sick tomorrow. Thank you again."

"You're welcome," Sam stood and watched her leave.

"That was nicely done, Sam," Jack said quietly from behind her.

Sam jumped and whirled, "How long have you been there?" Her hand was pressed to her chest trying to calm the furious beating of her heart.

"From the part about 'guy code.' I had no idea you could translate," he said dryly.

"Oh, please," she was calm again. "After working at Testosterone Central? After working with Danny in particular?"

"I see your point," he conceded. "Van Doren's giving everyone tomorrow off. Paperwork can wait until Friday. Go home, Sam."

"Not without my…," she noticed Martin heading towards her with her purse and coat in hand. "Never mind. I'm out of here!" Sam let Martin help her into the coat and took his hand as they went to the elevators. "So, what are we going to do on our day off, Agent Fitzgerald?"

Martin leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly, "I have a couple of ideas."

He followed her all day. She never left _his_ side and that pissed the hell out of him. How could she not see that he was just a filler-guy—that sooner or later he'd leave her? Personally, he hoped for sooner. Maybe it was time to step it up. He followed them into Central Park and set up his camera at a distance. He snapped pictures of them holding hands, feeding the ducks and kissing. They were always kissing! His stomach twisted in frustration and anger. She should be kissing him! Patience, he reminded himself, patience was the key. If he rushed things, Samantha would never be his. And the only thing he wanted in this world was for Samantha to be his—forever.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 3**

Monday morning Martin and Samantha walked into the MPU hand in hand and sipping coffee. They had spent a pleasant weekend together and, by staying at Martin's, avoided any of the anonymous phone calls Sam was receiving at her place.

"What, no coffee for me?"

"Sorry, Danny," Martin replied, "I needed one hand for my coffee and the other one for Sam."

Danny just rolled his eyes, "Great! I lose out on coffee so you can hold hands! Great!"

Sam laughed, "Quit your bellyaching! I'll go get you one from the break room. Just let me set mine down first." She turned to her desk and stopped cold. On her desk was another long white flower box tied with a red bow. The coffee slipped from her numb fingers splattering onto the floor. She took two steps backwards, shaking her head and muttering, "No!" Sam would have continued backing away from her desk if Danny hadn't been there.

He held her upright and turned her gently. Once she was no longer facing the offending box, Danny changed his grip into a hug, "Shh, Sam."

Martin went to her desk in a daze. He untied the bow and opened the box. Inside were a dozen long-stemmed roses—without blooms. A few petals were left in the box, along with another card.

Vivian came into the bullpen and took in the scene before her: Danny holding Samantha, spilt coffee on the floor and Martin looking into another white flower box. She quickly went to Martin and laid a hand on his shoulder, "What does the card say this time?"

"'_Hope you had a nice weekend. Nice of you to feed the ducks. See you soon!_'" Martin read quietly. His head snapped up, "He followed us! Oh my god, he followed us!" He sat down heavily in the chair.

Vivian was still looking at the box and noticed something under the flowers. She opened a drawer, took out a pair of protective gloves and put them on. She carefully reached under the flowers and removed a series of photos. She went to the table and laid them over the surface.

One shot was of Martin and Samantha feeding the ducks; another showed them in a passionate kiss; one was clearly taken though an open window as Samantha was curled against Martin on a sofa; the last shot was probably the most disturbing—Samantha in a state of undress, most likely getting ready for work one morning.

"Where were you two this weekend?" Vivian asked pulling off the gloves.

Sam lifted her head from Danny's shoulder, "Central Park, Martin's apartment and Café Java. Why?"

Vivian looked with sympathy at her younger colleague, "Come see."

Danny, Martin and Samantha came closer to the table and looked at what Vivian was pointing to. Sam gasped, Martin visibly winced and Danny just stared.

"He knows where you live too, Martin," Sam stated, tapping the photo of them on his couch with a pen. "There's no escape," she added sadly.

Martin reached out and turned the photo of Sam changing over. He didn't want to think that someone else had been watching her while she dressed. "We'll stay at a hotel."

"That doesn't sound so wise," Jack entered the conversation. "It doesn't seem to matter where you are, this guy seems to be able to find you."

"So what do you suggest?" Danny asked sharply.

"I suggest," Jack's voice conveyed command, "they pick one of their apartments and we can set up counter surveillance. Try to catch this guy in the act."

Danny looked at the photos, "Oh. Ok, I guess that could work."

Jack just glared, "I guess that's why they pay me the big bucks. I'm going to go clear all this with Van Doren and make sure we don't have a more pressing case." He headed to the elevators, "And Sam? Clean up that mess, huh?"

Sam just nodded and started to move for cleaning supplies.

"Don't, Sam," Vivian said gently, "I'll call janitorial services. Something like this is their job, not yours. Jack had no right to ask you to clean."

"But I made the mess. It's my fault," Sam stammered.

Danny lay a hand on her arm, "Just drop it, Sam. Viv's right."

Martin tried to lighten her mood, "You can clean at my house later, if you want to," and he slipped an arm around her waist kissing her gently.

She pulled back from the kiss and glared, "You think I'm going to clean?"

"Maybe you'd like it better if Martin got you one of those French Maid costumes, Sam," Danny joked.

Martin and Sam exchanged a look and laughed. "Thanks, Danny," Sam grinned, "I needed that."

"I know it is probably too much to hope," Vivian started, "but maybe we should take all this over to forensics?"

"I'll take it," Danny said, "There's a cute tech I'd like to talk to again."

The three exchanged looks and shook their heads over Danny's constant search for the next romantic conquest.

Later that afternoon, Jack pulled his team together and sat them around the table. He remained standing and explained what the FBI was willing to do to catch Sam's stalker. "We're going to use Samantha's apartment, since that's the phone number this guy seems to have. Cameras are going to be placed inside your apartment looking out, to try and catch him taking pictures. A trap and trace is being placed on your home phone as we speak. You'll both have escorts to and from the apartment to here. Once you two are in the apartment, we'd like you to stay put. I could only argue escorts, not 24-7 surveillance. Weekends are going to be tricky, but I'm sure we can work something out between the five of us."

"What do you think, Sam?" Martin asked.

She looked at her team, her friends and smiled, "Sounds good. I think we'll catch him."

"Damn straight we will," Danny exclaimed.

"So, Martin," Jack leaned forward, "perhaps you and Danny could go to your place now? Get the things you'll need?"

"How long do you think I should plan for?"

Jack shrugged, "Let's start with a week. If we have to extend the surveillance, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Six hours later, Jack watched Martin and Samantha leave with one of the agents assigned to escort duty – a bulky man who's entire physique said 'don't mess with me. I'm armed and dangerous!' If he didn't know any better, Jack would say he was ex-military and a private bodyguard.

Vivian also watched her colleagues leave. It had been a difficult day. Tensions had run high, with Danny trying to break it up in his usual manner. The work had been tedious, but necessary. Vivian suspected that Paula Van Doren was purposely diverting cases to other teams. Not that they could really concentrate on a missing person, but _something_ would have been a better distraction than paperwork. She hoped the surveillance they set up would yield results quickly and they could get back to what they did best—finding missing people.

He watched the two men take suitcases from his apartment to hers. He watched a tech team position small cameras facing out to the street below and rooftops above and smiled. It would be child's play to avoid their range and still accomplish what he wanted, what he needed. He went back to his place of work and pondered his next move. Perhaps he should step up the phone calls. Those always seemed to unnerve her the most. Perhaps he should start his letter campaign. They were ready to go. It would probably drive her crazy. He smiled and wondered how she reacted to the photos he sent. He especially liked the one of her putting on her bra. He preferred to have her take it off—but that could wait.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry about the chapter mis-titling. The chapters are in correct order--just not with correct titles! :) And, PLEASE DON'T ASK how it happened -- I have NO idea!! :) But you know what they say ... There are three types of people--those who can count, and those who can't!_

**Chapter 4**

Over the next several weeks, Samantha received several emails daily from her stalker. For the first week, each one always contained the same message: '_Burly men don't scare me. I'll have what's mine—you!_' After that, the message changed: '_Sorry the burly men are gone. Ready for me?_' Mack and Lucy tried to trace the return addresses, but it was always the same, a dead email probably created and taken down the same day—probably even the same hour.

At the same time, unmarked envelopes arrived at the office as well. In each envelope were between two and four pictures showing Samantha and Martin near the FBI office, Central Park, the corner bodega, on the steps of Samantha's apartment and, much to the dismay of those who set the counter surveillance cameras in place, photos of Samantha, sometimes with Martin, sometime without, in her apartment. The photos were never the same twice and, little by little, Samantha felt the confidence she had when she and Martin returned from the wedding disappearing.

Martin, Danny and Vivian were all doing their best to be supportive. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to think that Samantha was bringing this all on herself. He never failed to criticize her in front of another agent and had even gone as far as to call her incompetent in earshot of Deputy Director Fitzgerald.

"Martin?"

"Dad? Hi. Um, what brings you to New York?" Martin stood to address his father properly.

Victor perched on the edge of Martin's desk, "I heard Agent Spade has a stalker. I wondered if I could help." They had met at the family wedding, of course, and in true Victor Fitzgerald fashion, he did the exact opposite of what his son thought he would.

Martin let his mouth fall open in shock, "Um, I don't know. We've got surveillance going. And I'm staying with her. She hasn't been alone in weeks."

"That's good," Victor nodded, "I heard Agent Malone calling her 'incompetent.' Was that generally speaking or for some specific incident?"

"Jack actually called her incompetent to her face and he's still standing? That doesn't sound like Sam." Martin was shocked she had let the comment slide and then remembered how un-Samantha-like she had been acting recently. "I don't know, Dad. He's not been very supportive the last couple of weeks. I don't think he buys the whole stalker situation."

Victor sat straighter, "What do you mean?"

Martin sighed and ran his fingers though his hair, "Well, he picks on her for every little thing she does wrong—like printing the wrong report yesterday. A simple mistake I've made in the past few days too. But he never says anything to me—just Sam. And a couple of weeks ago, she dropped her coffee when the second box of flowers was delivered and he ordered her to clean it up. But my favorite happened three days ago," Martin started sarcastically.

"_OK, our missing person is in that warehouse with a gun to his head. Danny, I want you and Samantha to go though the back door. Martin, you and Vivian will take the front door and I'll hold here. Stay in constant communication. Let's go." Jack ordered his team into their positions._

_Danny led Samantha to the back of the warehouse. He radioed Jack that they were in position and held his hand on the door handle, waiting for the signal. When he got it, Danny flung open the door and made his way though the myriad of boxes stacked haphazardly around the floor. He could hear Samantha behind him and knew she had his back. No matter what was going on outside this warehouse, Danny knew Sam wouldn't let him down._

_As he rounded a corner Danny accidentally bumped a column of cardboard boxes stacked higher than his head. A shower of fine dust fell from the topmost box and hit Sam square in the face. She tried to contain her reaction, but the sneeze ripped itself from her body forcefully and loudly._

_The gunman whirled and fired three shots in their direction. Thankfully, he was a lousy shot and all three missed widely. From the other side of the warehouse, Martin and Vivian quickly closed in and forced the gunman to surrender. Sam untied their missing person and helped him to the waiting ambulance outside. Martin helped the handcuffed gunman into the waiting car and the whole team watched as both perpetrator and victim were sped off in the appropriate directions._

_The ambulance had barely vanished from sight when Jack turned on Samantha, "What the hell were you thinking?! You almost got Danny killed!"_

_Samantha stammered, "I—I—I."_

"_Yes," Jack pointed a finger at her nose, "_you_. You almost killed Danny."_

_Danny, Vivian and Martin all tried to speak at once:_

"_It was my fault."_

"_Danny hit the boxes."_

"_Samantha couldn't help her reaction."_

_Jack just glared at them, "Enough."_

_Pale and with trembling hands, Samantha unhooked her gun from her belt and reached into her pocket for her badge, "Here. I'll quit," she held them out to Jack and tried to hide the tear that crept down her cheek._

_Danny reached over and pushed her hands back towards her, "No, Sam. Don't do this."_

_She turned to him, "Why not? Jack's right. I almost got you killed in there!" _

"_No," he shook his head at her, "No, you didn't. _ I_ almost got me killed in there_. I_ hit the box with my hip. _I _sent the dust flying. _I _made _you_ sneeze." Danny reached over and wiped the tear from her cheek, "Will you knock off the quitting talk?"_

_Martin took the gun from her hands and placed it back on her hip. He put her badge in his own breast pocket and pulled her close, "You're not quitting today, Sam." He glared at his boss over her head, "Just back off. Ok, Jack? An accident happened. It wasn't her fault and you know it."_

_Jack opened his mouth to roar back at his junior agent but was stopped by a look from Vivian._

"_You know he's right," she said softly, "Let's just go back to the office and write our reports and call it a good day. The bad guy's in jail and the good guy's getting checked out at the hospital and probably won't even have to stay the night. Let's just get out of here."_

"So what happened later?" Victor asked his son.

Martin rubbed the back of his neck, "Not much. We came back, wrote our reports and I took Sam home."

Victor sensed he was leaving out part of the story, "And how was she?"

"You're good, Dad. You know that?" Martin exhaled noisily, "She was a wreck. The next day all she could talk about was quitting. How she was putting peoples' lives in danger just by working here. It took Danny, Viv and me nearly two days to get her to cop to the events as they happened. That her sneezing was a reaction she couldn't control and if Danny hadn't been such a klutz, none of this would ever have happened."

"And today?"

"Today," Martin replied, "I have no idea why Jack would call her incompetent today. She's not. Not today, not three days ago, not in the Colleen McGrath case, not in the Barry Mashburn incident, not ever!"

Victor laid a hand on his son's shoulder, "I know that, son. I know she's a good agent—and a good person. I've seen her in action, remember? Besides, she's a hell of a dancer, too!" he smiled.

Martin returned the smile, "So what are you—are we—going to do?"

* * *

She was almost there. He could see it. It was in the way she walked—timid and frightful and always looking over her shoulder. It was in the way she smiled—it no longer went all the way to her eyes. Her eyes, those little windows to the soul, oh, how he longed to look closer at them. Gaze into them and have her tell him, just with her eyes, that he was the only man she'd ever need again.

He watched her leave the building, her hand firmly in _his_, _his_ arm around her shoulders. Something had happened today. She was sadder than normal. _He _whispered something in her ear and her face lost some of its sadness. He had to know more, so he followed them—happy in the knowledge that the escorts had been pulled from duty more than two weeks ago. It was so much easier for him to operate.

When he realized they were just heading to her apartment, he took a short cut and beat them there. All the better to watch her reactions when she saw the gifts he left in her apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: This new formating system for FF isn't really working for me tonight. Near the bottom, you'll find a message that you'll have to pretend is a straight line separating the two sections. Please be patient as I try to figure out how to make this silly thing work!!_

**Chapter 5**

In the back of a cab, Samantha nudged Martin, "Hey, what are you thinking?"

He shrugged, "Just something my father said," Martin went silent, lost again in his own thoughts.

"And?" she prompted.

"What? Oh, sorry," Martin squeezed her hand and gave her a quick smile. "We were talking about you actually."

"Good things, I hope," Sam nervously worried her lower lip. If his father knew about her stalker, so did the rest of the big wigs and that made her think twice about her job.

He watched her lower lip slip between her teeth and knew how nervous she must be. So he leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. Pulling his face back just far enough for eye contact Martin continued the conversation, "Of course good things, Sam. You know my dad loves you after you danced with him. And watching you do the bunny-hop will forever bring a smile to my face!" he watched the worry leave her eyes and her lower lip leave her mouth, stretching into a smile. "He's concerned about you, Sam."

"Really?" her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. She really couldn't understand how she could have engendered such a reaction from the Deputy Director. Maybe it wasn't from the Deputy Director, but her boyfriend's father. But after the past month—especially after the warehouse incident—her self-esteem was in the toilet.

Martin stroked her cheek, "Yes, really. He wanted to know if you're ok. And he wanted to know about Jack's name calling."

"Oh," Sam shrank away from him, holding herself tight.

"I told him about the spilt coffee, how Jack seems to always yell at you and what happened at the warehouse."

Sam shrunk further into herself, "Was he mad I almost killed Danny?" she whispered.

Martin pulled her arms away from her body and placed them around his own, "For the last time, Samantha, you didn't almost kill Danny, the perp did. Danny's a klutz and he's lucky the boxes didn't come crashing down on his head. And, no, my father wasn't mad at you—just at Jack's reaction to the situation." He wasn't sure she believed him yet. Not even after three days of the entire team—sans Jack—telling her otherwise.

"So, if he's not mad, what's Victor going to do?"

"Well, for starters, he's starting his own investigation into your stalker. Very quiet and very under the table," Martin explained what he and his father discussed and by the time he finished, they had arrived at Sam's apartment.

Samantha handed the driver some cash and she and Martin headed up. By the time they reached her front door, Marin had Samantha laughing over some lame joke Danny had told him earlier. They were still laughing when Samantha opened the door.

Their laughter died on their lips when they saw the level of destruction that had occurred during their absence. Every cushion on the sofa was slashed, magazines torn and thrown around the living room. They read the message spray-painted across the wall: '_I was here, Samantha! Next time, you'll be here too!_' Every picture had been pulled from the wall and smashed. The TV had been victim to a chair, the leg still stuck in the shattered tube. In the middle of the upturned coffee table was a pile of photos. They used to show Martin and Samantha in happy moments but now every one was ripped, the halves with Martin nowhere in sight. '_How was it that no one heard what was going on in here and call the police?_' Martin thought.

In the kitchen, bottles had been thrown to the floor, their contents on every surface and over every square inch of the floor. A dusting of flour or other dry ingredient covered the spilt liquids.

Martin took in the scene before him and swallowed hard. He reached for Samantha who stood frozen, one hand still on the doorknob.

As soon as Martin touched her, it released something inside her. She let out a strangled sob and backed into the hallway, pulling Martin with her. There was no way she wanted to see what he had done to her bedroom.

In the hallway, Martin pulled Sam to him, burying her face in his shoulder to shield her. With one hand on the back of her head, he pulled out his cell phone and punched a button. He didn't have to wait long for a response, "Danny?" Martin softly told his friend and colleague what happened and was relieved to hear that he would call Jack, Vivian and CSU and be over quickly.

_pretend there is a line here for a section break_

Yes! He thought to himself. Now, she was shattered. Now she'd be his. He just had to figure out a way to get rid of _him_. Not kill _him_ off. No, that would never work. That would destroy Samantha and wouldn't leave him room to step in—to claim his place.

He watched her sitting on her front steps. _His_ arms were around her, comforting her. For now, he'd ignore that. But to watch her—now that made his heart sing! The tears rolled down her cheeks and she shrunk into herself. He wanted to go to her then to kiss away her tears. To tell her that with one simple statement, he could make all her pain go away. If she'd only say she was his—he would stop tormenting her immediately.

The other woman sat opposite the interloper. The cocoa-skinned woman opened her notebook and began speaking. He grinned to himself—without even hearing her, he knew she was letting them both know that no one had heard a thing. That no one had been home when he had worked his magic upon her apartment. It had been a stroke of luck that everyone had somewhere to be earlier today. No nosy neighbors to rat him out.

One of her other teammates came to her then and helped her into the car, her hand never leaving _his_. He couldn't afford to be seen following them now, so he'd wait until tomorrow. He'll follow her after work. Find out where she was staying and continue his campaign to win her heart.

As the car drove out of sight, his last thought was of what Samantha thought when she went into her bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The next day, Danny took a personal day. Martin, Samantha, and Vivian were stuck with paperwork and whenever one of the women asked what Danny might be doing, Martin just smiled. He knew exactly what his partner was doing and was grateful.

The night before Danny called in a few favors after dropping Samantha and Martin of at Martin's. Four phone calls later and he had everything set up. At eight the next morning, Danny met a crew of current and former FBI agents, a few of their wives and a couple of friends Danny knew from his law school days. They met in front of Sam's apartment and were armed with cleaning supplies, trash bags and lots of coffee.

Leading his motley cleaning crew into the apartment building, Danny was again eternally grateful Sam hadn't gone farther into her apartment. He knew if she had seen her bedroom, it would have been her undoing.

_Danny walked into Sam's apartment and surveyed the disaster before him. He took in the mess in the kitchen and carefully stepped around the broken glass in the living room. He slowly made his way to the bedroom and just about threw up. _

_Sam's stalker had turned her bedroom into a honeymoon suite reject. There were flower petals everywhere and candles on every surface. He had taken some of the pictures of Samantha undressing and placed them on her mirror and with her lipstick wrote, 'I love it when you do this for me!' _

_The dresser was mostly untouched except for Sam's underwear drawer. It was completely empty. Danny wasn't looking forward to telling Samantha that her stalker was now in possession of her most intimate garments._

_Her entire closet had been emptied onto the floor and to Danny's disgust; the stalker had emptied both Sam's shampoo and conditioner upon the pile. Danny couldn't imagine what had possessed this man to do such a juvenile act. If he was trying to win Samantha's heart—he obviously didn't understand Samantha and her wardrobe. By ruining her clothes, he had ruined his chances. 'All the better,' Danny thought._

_On the bed itself was some __lingerie__ Danny supposed the stalker wanted Sam to wear. But the piece de resistance was the message spray-painted across the bedspread and walls, 'You'll be mine! You were meant for me! He'll never be enough for you!'_

It had been enough for Danny to keep his dinner down last night, but now he could help put things right. He motioned to one of his friends and together they took the ruined sofa down to the dumpster. The TV was next, followed by bags of ruined posters, photos and other knickknacks that could never be repaired. Danny knew Samantha would never want to see those objects again.

It took them nearly six hours, but Samantha's apartment was restored to its former state of cleanliness. Painting over the messages took the longest. One of the women suggested they change the color in the living room to a soft green to match the new sofa and for the bedroom a red everyone knew Sam would like. They had replaced her sofa with one from someone's basement. Likewise for posters and pictures on the walls and a table and chairs set.

One of the first things Lucy, the team's newest tech, did was take Samantha's soiled suits and dresses to the dry-cleaners. With their speed, everything was back in her closet by the time the rest of the apartment was restored.

Martin said he'd bring a new comforter for the bed when he brought Sam later that evening to check out her 'new' place. And although Martin was unsure what Sam would think of the 'charity' she was receiving, he hoped she would see it for what it really was—a gesture of friendship and support.

* * *

(Meanwhile, on the other side of the jungle…)

"Hello, Samantha."

"Dr. Harris. What brings you down here?" Samantha asked cautiously. She set her pen down, on the one hand grateful for the distraction, on the other, she was nervous. In her mind, it was not a good thing that the in-house shrink was coming to see her.

"I was wondering if we could talk," Lisa smiled.

Sam coughed nervously, "Um, sure. Where?"

Lisa gestured to the balcony, "How about there?" As they made their way, Lisa kept the conversation going, "I'm not pulling you from too much work, am I?"

"No. Jack's got me doing statement reports and stuff from the past two cases. Nothing that any drone couldn't do," Samantha held the door open.

"Does it bother you when he asks you to do that kind of work," Dr. Harris wondered if their past involvement had anything to do with the animosity she was hearing behind Samantha's words.

Sam shrugged, "I don't know. I mean he's the boss. If he says we have to do the work, we do it."

"And?" Lisa prompted.

"And I hate this part of my job!" Sam exploded, "I mean, we're smarter than filling out expense reports and mileage reports and damage reports and all those other tedious little inane details that we deal with."

"So this doesn't have anything to do with your past involvement with Jack."

She rolled her eyes, "No. I think if someone else were the boss I'd feel the same way about all the pounds of paperwork we're asked to generate." Sam sighed heartily and leaned into the railing, "Sometimes, being an FBI agent isn't like the brochure made it out to be."

Lisa laughed, "I'll agree with you on that one. No one told me the fact that I'd have to put in 14, 15 even 20 hour days—and I'm not even a field agent!"

"Getting into missing persons, I kind of figured long hours would happen," Sam confessed, "I just didn't think we'd get three huge cases back to back and that I'd get stuck with the grunt work."

"And dealing with a stalker on top of those cases as well," Lisa pointed out. "Tell me, Samantha, what does it feel like to have a stalker come after you personally?"

"It's awful, Lisa," Sam replied quickly. She debated lying and dancing around how she truly felt, but the past few weeks had taken their toll. Sam continued softly, "There's this knot in my stomach all the time. I'm afraid to open email or envelopes. Part of me wants to run and run and run until I've put an entire continent between him and me."

Lisa moved a little closer, "So why don't you run?"

Sam looked at her therapist, "Martin. Vivian and Danny, too."

"They're the only reasons?"

"No," she shook her head, "I don't want him to win either. I'm stronger than that. Running away from problems doesn't solve anything—at least it hasn't worked yet. So I need to break my old habits and stay."

Lisa smiled and nodded at her patient, "Good. You've got perspective on all this. I just wanted to make sure you weren't burying your feelings." She reached over and squeezed Sam's hand, "But you'll come see me if it gets worse, yes?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I'll come. Thanks for coming down today."

"I just hate to see all my hard work undone," Lisa smiled and left Sam on the balcony. She nodded to Agents Johnson and Fitzgerald on her way to Jack's office. "Got a minute?"

"Barely that," Jack grumbled.

Dr. Harris nodded, "I just wanted to let you know I've talked with Agent Spade."

"And?"

"You know that's privileged, Jack," she admonished. "Let's just say that you won't have to worry about Agent Spade going out in the field."

He stood and grabbed a bunch of files, "I guess that will have to do. If you'll excuse me, Doctor. We've got a missing family from Montana and the mayor's all over my back. This kind of thing doesn't go over well with the tourism commission."

"Of course," she stopped him at the door, "My door's open for you too, Jack. I know Maria moving to Chicago wasn't what you hoped for."

Jack Malone didn't say anything. He just grunted and pushed his way out the door.

"That went well," Lisa said to the empty office.

* * *

She was in a better mood today. He could see it all over. She smiled more. G-d he loved her smile. When she really smiled, it could light a room. He couldn't wait for her to smile like that for him. For now, he'd be content watching her smile for _him_. He knew he had frightened her, and he hadn't wanted to. He just wanted her attention. For her not to be focused on the damn interloper!

He shook his head at himself. Maybe he needed a new tactic. Scaring her wasn't what he wanted and wasn't helping his case either. Maybe he needed to come at this a different way. What was that old saying? Shower them with kindness? Something like that. Maybe, if he changed his approach, she'd be more receptive to him. Maybe. It just might work. He couldn't do any worse than he had already done. Maybe if he showered her with kindness, she'd stop having someone with her all the time. Maybe she'd go back to her old routines and want some alone time.

It could work. He'd start small. Perhaps the teddy bear…


	7. Chapter 7

Fair warning – this chapter is short!! But the next one's coming soon! Promise!

**Chapter 7 **

"So, think Jack's found us a case yet?" Martin asked as they stepped off the elevator the next morning.

Sam shook her head, "With our luck, we'll get paperwork. Or better, _I'll_ get paperwork and _you'll_ get to go out in the field," she finished with a snarl.

Martin ran a hand across her back, "Don't think like that, Sam. You know Dr. Harris cleared you to go out in the field. Jack can't keep you cooped up here forever."

"But he'll tr—," she stopped, having noticed the small bouquet on her desk. "What now?" Sam went to the flowers and using her pen, pushed the vase around searching for a card. "It's clean."

"I'll go check with reception," Martin rubbed her back once more. He was back before she could do more than pace once around the central table, "This was accidentally left at reception." He handed her the card.

Sam took it with a trembling hand and slid the card from the envelope, "Thank you to the Missing Persons Unit for finding our son. Sincerely, The Norville Family." She looked up at Martin with relief shining in her eyes, "It wasn't him!"

"Guess not," Martin reached over and took the vase from her desk and placed it on the central table. "There. Now we all can enjoy them."

* * *

He smiled to himself. Putting the Norville's name on the card had been a last minute thought, but he always went with his gut, and his gut never lied. She fell for it and he saw just a little less tension in her when he watched her leave the building. For once, it paid to read the newspaper.

He hoped she liked her next gift just as much. Nothing too fancy or expensive. Just enough of a gift to let her know he still was watching.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next day, Samantha found herself driving to an alley to meet an officer from NYPD. Their latest missing person's vehicle had been found. When Jack called her, he said Vivian would join her at the scene. Once there, she checked the scene, the mail truck itself and started asking lots of questions. By the time Viv arrived, she knew what had been taken from the truck.

What Samantha had missed was what Vivian found wedged under the driver's seat.

"Sam? You don't live on Rosie Diaz's route. Why is there a package for you?" Vivian held up a small brown box.

Checking the markings on the box, Sam paled, "How did it get here?" The box was clearly marked as having gone though the postal system. If everything was correct, it should be on a different mail truck on the other side of the city.

"What does the return address say?" Vivian wondered aloud.

"It says: 'From Me,' without a complete address." Sam's hand shook and she dropped the box.

Vivian smiled and picked up the box, "Well, at least now we know it isn't a bomb!"

"Yeah," Sam answered distractedly, "but just to be on the safe side, I think I'll let the tech guys open it for me when we get back to the office."

As if on cue, Vivian's phone rang and Samantha heard her give Jack the run down from the scene. A few minutes later, she hung up. "Jack wants you to head back to the office and run her phone records. I'm meeting up with Danny at the central post office to talk to her boss."

"Ok," Sam tucked the escaped strands behind an ear, "Hey Viv? You ok?" Samantha had noticed Vivian wiping her eyes as she pulled up to the scene.

"Me? Of course. Never better," Vivian gave her younger colleague a pat on the arm, "Just take that box to tech and I'll see you later, ok?"

If anyone knew avoidance techniques, it was Samantha Spade. But she played along, knowing sooner or later she'd figure out what made her friend cry. In the meantime, it gave her something to think about besides the case and her stalker, "Ok, yeah, sure. See ya, Viv."

* * *

After finding Rosie's body in the park, the team had gone out for drinks. It was hard to lose someone; especially someone who was so involved with helping kids. Vivian told the team she promised to help Chantal gain custody of her brother if the girl came back after her birthday.

Sam felt for Malcolm and Chantal and quickly offered her assistance. Danny also said he'd help.

Jack bought the first round and then Martin picked up the second. After the third round, Samantha felt her head spin.

"Hey, Hot Stuff," Danny grabbed her attention, "I'm buying. You want another?"

"No," she shook her head slowly, "I think I've had enough. Could you grab me a water?"

"Doth mine ears deceive me?" Martin mocked gently, "The fair Samantha turning down a free martini?"

"Can it, Romeo," she swatted his shoulder, "My head's killing me. Probably from looking up all those addresses earlier." Sam gratefully grabbed her glass of water from Danny's hand and downed it quickly. Once she finished, she leaned her head on Martin's shoulder, "When you finish your beer, can we go?"

Martin tipped the bottle and peered inside, "I'm done now," he lifted her head from his shoulder, stood and stretched before offering her a hand, "Come on, Sam."

She took the offered hand and bade everyone else good night. As she slipped into her jacket Sam heard Vivian ask, "What was in the box?"

"The box?" Until this very moment, Samantha had actually forgotten all about the mysterious box she had dropped of with the tech guys some seven hours earlier. "Oh, um," she blushed, "a teddy bear."

"Just the bear?" Danny asked.

Sam shook her head, "A note too. '_Hope you have a good day and that this little guy brings you a smile. Did you like my flowers? Love, me_.' And Martin isn't 'me'!"

"So it's from him, your stalker," Danny frowned. "And the flowers yesterday too? Did tech find anything?" He asked, but was sure he already knew the answer.

"Nothing but the bear and the note," Martin answered. He had practically knocked Samantha over this morning as she went to take the box to the tech guys, so he knew all about it. But he, like Samantha, had forgotten all about it until Vivian asked.

Throughout the entire exchange, Jack sat silently. He really didn't care about some damned bunch of flowers or teddy bear. He was too caught up in the drama that was his own life. Maria had called earlier and asked him not to come to Chicago this weekend. Something about the girls going to a slumber party with friends and how important it was that they had friends there. But seeing their father obviously wasn't as important any more. Jack watched Martin and Sam leave and gripped his glass tighter, brooding. He threw back the last swallow after nearly fifteen minutes of silence and left with a cursory 'good night' to Vivian and Danny.

"Guess it's just you and me, Viviana," Danny grinned.

"No," she said sadly, "it's just you, Danny-boy. I've got to get home and make sure my kid hasn't burned the place down." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and put on her coat.

"Ah well," Danny stretched and grabbed his jacket, "No fun being here by myself. I'll walk you to your car."

* * *

If it weren't so easy to bribe a postman, life would be much different, he thought. Getting one of the sorters, who didn't question him after he slipped a fifty-dollar bill into his hand, to put the package—postmarked—onto the truck was so easy! He wished he could have seen how it rattled her. He wondered if she even kept the bear or did she throw it into the trash? She better have kept it. He wasn't made of money after all. But the stash he had set aside just for her wasn't too depleted yet.

Maybe she wasn't getting the hint. He should do something big. Something to get her attention. Give her something she'd really like.

He almost had his plan finalized to get rid of the damned interloper. He just needed a few more pieces to fall into place.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

A few weeks later they were in the middle of the Chelsea Prince case. There were just twelve hours left on the voting and everyone was working hard to find who had taken the heiress and where. Samantha was with Mack in the tech room when an intern called her name. She signed for the package without paying much attention, thinking it was related to their current case.

With her eyes still on the screen, Sam opened the padded envelope. She pulled out an oddly shaped bundle. It was wrapped in green tissue and tied with a pink ribbon—definitely not related to the case. Her hands trembling, she undid the ribbon and let the tissue fall away.

Mack sensed she wasn't following his work and turned his head. He saw her face grow pale and spied the envelope on the floor. Mack picked it up and turned it over to check the return address. He wasn't surprised to find there wasn't one; there hadn't been on any of the other envelopes or packages from her stalker. He looked in the envelope and found the card Samantha missed. He took the liberty of opening it and felt the blood drain from his own face as he read. _'I'm giving this back to you because I want you to wear this for me one day soon! You're so beautiful, Samantha. Love, Me._' Mack turned back to Sam in time to see her drop the bundle to the floor and bring her hands to her face.

Samantha gasped as the tissue fell away to reveal her black satin nightgown the stalker had stolen from her apartment. She let the whole bundle fall from her fingers and sank into a chair. Her hands covered her face and she let out a soft sob, "No!" Coupled with two bouquets of flowers and another teddy bear, this was his fourth contact with her this week. Samantha wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Mack quietly left to find Agent Fitzgerald.

"Sam?" Martin sat next to her and pulled her to him. "Shh, it'll be alright. We'll find him."

"I can't keep doing this, Martin," Sam said quietly from behind her hands.

He pulled her hands down and softly kissed her, "We'll find him, Sam. As soon as we get Chelsea, I'll call my dad for an update."

She looked into his blue eyes; seeking comfort from the love she saw there, "Before, what he sent was mean, nasty. It scared me, but I could deal. Now he's sending courting gifts. Like he wants to win me from you; and it's ten times scarier." Sam could feel her walls crumble inside. All her defenses were down and the nightgown was the last straw.

"I know, Sam. He scares me too," Martin pulled her onto his lap and held her tight, "But we'll find him. He can't hide forever."

"It's going on eleven weeks, Martin. He's done a damn fine job of hiding so far," Sam sighed and put her head on his shoulder.

Martin felt her shoulder dig into his chest and was reminded again how much this had affected her that she was losing weight—weight Martin didn't think she could afford to lose. He kissed her temple, "He can't hide forever, Sam. He's going to make a mistake. And when he does, we'll deal with him—harshly!"

Samantha would have said something when Danny interrupted, "We've got a lead. Jack wants us all in the bullpen."

Once the whole team was gathered in the bullpen, Jack started handing out assignments, "Danny, Martin, Samantha I want you three with me. We're heading to Albany. Vivian's going to stay here and feed us information as it comes in."

"Jack?" Vivian tread lightly, these days, no one knew exactly what mood Agent Malone was in. "I think Samantha should stay here. We still don't know who her stalker is, and by searching door to door, it could present an opportunity he shouldn't have."

"You're up for this, then?" he asked.

"I'll even drive," she countered before turning to her teammate, "If it's alright with you, Sam."

The nightgown had thrown her more than she wanted it to and welcomed the opportunity to stay out of harm's way, "I think it might be best."

"All right. Let's go find Ms. Prince," Jack motioned for everyone to head out. "And Sam? Make sure your phone's charged!"

* * *

Victor Fitzgerald hung up the phone and stared at it for several minutes. Things were moving quickly now. One of his best senior agents was close to finding Agent Spade's stalker. It had taken a little bending of the rules—ok, a lot of bending—but she was practically family. If his son had any say in the matter, she'd _be_ family soon enough. And if Victor turned a blind eye to anything, it was how his own family bent the rules now and again. Protecting his family was what drove Victor to the FBI in the first place and now, in his position of power, he'd be damned if he didn't keep protecting them.

* * *

Almost there. His plans were almost done. He just had to find one more place to stash the damned interloper. He already had a couple, but wanted one more, just to be safe. There was no way the damned interloper was going to escape from him. And Samantha would be free—and all his—forever.

* * *

Both men were ready for the next step. Both men were doing whatever they thought was in Samantha's best interests.

Neither man counted on the hand of fate.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The following morning, the team was busy finishing up the paperwork from the Chelsea Prince case. They had word from the hospital that she would make a full recovery after several pints of transfused blood and several days of bed rest. It was the happy ending everyone needed.

Jack was ensconced in his office avoiding contact with everyone. He claimed they were all more productive when he wasn't around anyway, so why not leave them to their own devises.

Martin was typing one handed as he ate a sandwich. Better to be productive and get out of the office at a decent time than to take a true lunch hour. Everyone else agreed with him and they were all working and eating simultaneously. He frowned in annoyance when his phone rang and he had to put the sandwich down, "Fitzgerald. Becky? Calm down!"

Samantha heard him and realized it was his older sister. She went over to his desk and laid a hand on his shoulder to offer comfort.

"Becky, what happened to Dad?" the panic was clear in his voice.

She couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but Martin's alone caused her stomach to clench in worry.

"It's not Dad? Ok, then," there was a long silence before Martin choked out, "Mom?" He reached for a pen and paper. "Tell me where again. Ok. Uh-huh. Got it. I'll be on the next plane and I'll meet you there."

Sam read over his shoulder, 'Georgetown University Hospital, 4th floor, room 1426.' His mom was in the hospital? '_What happened,_' Sam wondered.

"I love you too, Bec. See you soon," Martin hung up the phone and started to shake.

She couldn't stand to see him in pain. Seeing Martin in pain was worse than receiving gifts from her stalker. Samantha sat on his lap and held him tight. It was not unlike the way she held him when they were in the hospital for his aunt. She felt him shake and he gripped her as if she were his only lifeline.

After several minutes—and Sam shooing away both Danny and Vivian—he calmed enough for her to ask, "What happened, Martin?"

"My mom," he started quietly, "she was working in the garden and collapsed. Becky was bringing the baby for a visit and she found Mom. The doctors say she had a heart attack."

"Is she going to be ok?"

Martin let out a deep breath, "Yeah. They say it was pretty mild and all. She'll have to start taking it easy. And that will be hard. My mom doesn't do much in easy-mode."

"I seem to remember seeing that at the wedding," Sam chuckled lightly. "And she wasn't even mother-of-the-bride."

Martin laughed with her, "You should have seen her at Becky's. The bride is supposed to be the nervous wreck, but no. Becky was calm as could be and my mom was running around like a chicken with her head cut off." His face tightened and he gripped her harder. "I have to go to DC, Sam. I have to see her. But I don't want to leave you alone."

Samantha may have shooed Danny and Vivian away, but they were never out of earshot.

"Don't worry, Fitzy," Danny wheeled into Martin's line of sight, "Between Vivian, Jack and yours truly, I think we can manage to keep Hot Stuff here safe."

Vivian came over and handed Martin a piece of paper, "I've booked you on the 5:25 flight from Newark. It should give you enough time to go home and grab a few things and still make it on time," she nodded to the paper, "That's your e-ticket and boarding pass, so long as you don't plan to check any luggage, you're good to go."

"Viv! I—I don't know what to say," Martin was truly touched.

"Just call and let us know how she is," Vivian reached over Sam and caressed his cheek.

Sam smiled and repeated Viv's gesture, "Can I drive you to the airport?"

"I'd like that," Martin kissed her cheek and helped her stand. He glanced at Jack's office then at Danny. "Can you let him know?" Martin asked, jerking a thumb towards their silent boss.

"For you? Yeah, I'll brave the lion's den," Danny squared his shoulders and headed off to Jack's office.

"You two better get going now, before Jack comes roaring out here," Vivian suggested.

"Thanks again, Vivian," Martin kissed her, holding tight to Sam's hand.

Vivian smiled and shook her head, "Just go, you charmer!"

* * *

The damned interloper was gone! Watching _him_ go to the airport was pure joy. He hadn't gotten the opportunity to put his own plan into action, but it didn't matter! Now he could concentrate on Samantha. She would be his; she would!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"I'll call every night, Sam," Martin kissed her though the car window. He wouldn't let her walk him into the airport—they still didn't know who her stalker was and if he had been following them, Sam had a better chance to escape in a moving vehicle. "I know we haven't said this yet, but I love you, Samantha. I really do."

Sam grabbed his tie and pulled his face back in the car. She kissed him soundly before replying, "I love you too, Martin. I really do."

He grinned at her and tried to free his tie, "Sam, I love you, but I have to get on a plane."

She pulled him down once more for a quick kiss before letting go of his tie, "I know. Tell your mom I hope she gets better quickly," Sam smoothed his tie back into place, "Call me soon?"

"You bet," he stepped around the car and waved from the curb.

As she started the car she watched his mouth—god she loved his mouth—she could see him saying something and smiled as she realized it was 'I love you.' She waved once and pulled back into traffic.

Once she was back in the safety of the FBI building, she was met by her team. "Samantha," Jack started, "we've drawn up a schedule here of who's going to take you home. I trust once you get home, you'll stay put and not open the door for strangers."

"I'm not five, Jack," Sam retorted. "I appreciate the escort home and yes, once I'm home I won't open my door for anyone I don't know. But give it a rest. I'm not an idiot!"

"I, uh, what I meant was," Jack stammered.

Danny interrupted, "Quit while you're behind, boss!" he winked at Sam, "Hot Stuff here knows how to take care of herself. We just get to make sure she gets home, nothin' more."

Jack ran his hand over his head, "Yeah, ok. So who's taking her home tonight?"

"That would be me," Vivian stood and gathered her things, "So if there's nothing else, Jack?"

"What?" he was completely distracted by his own thoughts, "No, nothing. Go home everybody."

* * *

Over the next few days, Danny, Vivian and Samantha were stuck in the office doing nothing but paperwork. Jack managed to schedule meetings back to back and barely saw the three of them. Danny complained loudly and bitterly how Martin managed to escape the hard work. Vivian countered that if he would rather get the same phone call about his brother having a heart attack, then he, too, could escape. Vivian's gentle chiding was enough to keep Danny quiet for the next day or two.

"Hey Sam?" Danny called out late on their third straight day of paperwork, "When's Martin coming home again? It is _so_ his turn to do mileage reports!"

Sam looked up from the stack of phone records she was trying to organize, "Last night he said not until Friday. His mom's getting out of the hospital tomorrow and he wants to stay one more night after that."

"Lucky bastard!"

"Daniel!" Vivian threw a wad of paper at his head, "Language!"

Danny caught the paper mid-air and grinned, "Sorry, Mom! I forgot the rules." He threw the paper back at her.

Caught in the middle, Sam ducked her head and held one hand over her mouth to cover her laughter. Suddenly, there was paper flying everywhere and most of it was aimed right at Samantha. "Hey! What did I do to deserve this?" she asked sitting up.

"You laughed!" Danny threw one right at her nose.

Usually it was Martin and Danny that got the silliness started. With Martin's absence, Vivian obviously felt the need to break the tedium of paperwork rather than waiting for Danny to get bored. Sam really didn't mind being caught in the middle. It took her mind from both the endless series of papers and her stalker.

In the three days since Martin left, Sam's phone rang no less than seven times a night. After the first two calls, she turned the ringer down on her house phone and let it go straight to the machine. She told Danny, Viv and Jack that if they needed her, just to call the cell. She had also received flowers and a box of chocolate every morning at the office. There wasn't a note with the gift, but after a quick phone call it was completely apparent that Martin wasn't the sender.

"I'm sorry I laughed, Danny," Sam tried to apologize through her laughter. "But, man, I needed that!"

Vivian threw one more wad of paper that managed to hit Jack square in the chest as he came into the room, "Oops! Sorry, Jack."

"Well, I can see my team's very productive in my absence," he shot the three of them a look of annoyance, fury and mirth. "Danny, a word?" Jack gestured to his office. Once they were behind his door, Jack rubbed his head and went for some aspirin, "I know it's my turn to take Sam home, but I've got a killer headache. Can you do it?"

"Sure, boss," Danny turned to leave but stopped. "Jack? I, uh, sorry about earlier. We just needed to blow off some steam. We've been working hard, I promise."

"Forget about it, Danny," Jack swallowed three tablets dry, "I've been there. I know how necessary it is to break up the monotony. Just make sure everything's filed on time and I'll have no beef with any of you."

"Ok," Danny pushed the door open, "Hope your head's better."

Jack's only response was a grunt.

Rounding the corner to the bullpen, Danny saw Samantha and Vivian gathering up all the paper they tossed. He bent to help them and once their area was clean he gestured to Sam, "Come on, Hot Stuff, let's get some Chinese on our way to your place."

"You buying?" Sam asked, not eager to feed his stomach.

"Sure, why not," Danny opened his wallet, "I think I can cover this one."

"I thought it was Jack's turn," Vivian asked as she put on her coat.

Danny shrugged, "It was, but he's got a headache, so we swapped. No biggie."

Sam put on her own coat, "Hop Lee's or the hole in the wall on my block?"

"How about your hole in the wall," Danny loosened his tie, "Their pot-stickers are better."

"Whatever makes you happy," Sam laughed as they got on the elevator.

* * *

He was almost ready to make his move. Samantha was almost his. He hoped she liked the flowers and chocolates. He had just enough money for one last delivery. After that, she'd have to settle for his presence as her present. He couldn't wait to kiss her, hold her, look into her beautiful eyes and make love to her. He pictured her taking off her clothes for him. He'd ask her to do it slowly—well maybe not the first time. The first time, he wanted just to see her, to see all of her, to claim her as his once and for all. To finally take that damned interloper's place, to claim it as his own, forever.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: __I would like to thank Irish Avalon for the great reviews. It is really nice to be appreciated. _I just need to give everyone fair warning--this chapter will probably be the hardest to read. It was certainly the hardest to write.

**Warning for disturbing scene, violence and language usage.  
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**Chapter 12**

"I'll call you once we land," Martin waited impatiently in a long line to check-in. "It'll be late though."

"I know," Sam answered from the office, "Just call me and we'll see if either of us has enough energy to do more than say goodnight."

"When do you get to go home?"

"Just as soon as we finish the paperwork from today's case," Sam yawned.

They had gotten a case early in the day when a teenager failed to report to his before-school jazz band class after being dropped off in front of the high school. Fortunately, it hadn't taken too much legwork to find him at his girlfriend's house in New Rochelle and discover the both of them higher than two kites on crystal meth. Vivian and Danny had taken both their missing person and his girlfriend to the local hospital and were just waiting for the parents to come before leaving the teens.

"Well, don't fall asleep at the keyboard, Sam. It'll leave funny marks on your cheek!" Martin teased gently.

"And that would be very attractive!"

"I can't have a girlfriend with keyboard face," Martin inched forward as the line finally moved.

Sam would have retorted, but she yawned again, "Sorry. We've been here since 6:30 this morning."

Suddenly the line began to move swiftly, "It's ok, Sam. Looks like I get to check-in before the next decade, so I'll call you soon."

"'K. Love you," every time she said it, it was easier than the last and it warmed her heart.

"I love you too, Sam. Bye."

"Bye," she closed her phone and saw Jack standing over her. "We can go?"

Jack just nodded and helped her up. He didn't let go of her elbow until they were safely in the car.

Sam laughed nervously as he pulled out of the garage, "You take your escort duties very seriously, don't you?"

"I don't want anything to happen to you, Sam," he replied.

"I've got the best guards in the FBI. Nothing's going to happen to me." She wasn't sure Jack was in the best frame of mind to be doing extra duties. "How are your girls?" She decided to keep him talking about things he liked. He always liked talking about them.

"They're fine, I guess," he gripped the wheel harder. "Maria's not letting me see them very much."

"How come?"

He sighed, "She keeps talking about how they need to adjust to Chicago and make friends and I distract them."

"You distract them?" Sam always knew Maria kept the girls' best interests first, but this was a little over the top. "That doesn't sound right, Jack. Have you tried to talk to her?"

"Several times. I just keep getting the same speech."

Sam echoed his sigh, "How about in person? Have you tried talking to her in person about all this?" The guilt still burned in her about their affair and how much damage it caused to Jack's marriage.

"I don't know, Sam," Jack parked in front of her building, "I just don't know," he sighed again and then shook his head, "Come on, let's get you upstairs."

They made their way to her apartment in silence. Once she unlocked her door, Sam turned and started to say goodnight, but something about his posture made her invite him in. "Want a glass of wine?"

"Whatever you're having," Jack took off his coat and slipped his tie from around his neck. He was nervous. He was finally in her apartment because she invited him in. He looked around and saw the handiwork of Danny's crew.

"Here," Sam handed him a glass of merlot. "My new favorite from California."

Jack sipped the wine and noted the green wall, "You painted over my message."

The glass was poised halfway to her lips when she registered what he said. "_Your _message?" she whispered.

"Yes," he drained the glass in one swallow, "_My_ message. Did you paint over the one in your bedroom too?" Jack made his way to the doorway and took in the red wall, "You did! You got rid of my messages! How could you?"

Sam's mind was racing. _Jack_ was her stalker? Jack was her _stalker_! She tried to remember where she put her gun and then suddenly remembered she had left it in the office for routine inspection. Shit! There were knives in her kitchen. Could she get there before he did anything? Was he wearing his gun? She couldn't remember seeing it once they left the building.

Jack came closer and reached out to grab her arms, "Why did you destroy my messages, Sam?"

She threw the contents of her glass in his face and started for the door. She never made it.

He grabbed her and slammed her into the wall. The large flower print was a secondary victim. Samantha felt the glass shatter under her skull and all the bones of her left wrist crack as it hit against the wood frame. "Jack! Stop!"

"I had it all planned, Sam! I was going to send him away so I can have you all to myself," Jack kept her pinned to the wall. "I saw you. All over Manhattan. You were always touching him and kissing him. Why were you always kissing him? You never did that with me, why with him?"

Sam let him rant while she wondered if her neighbors would call 9-1-1 and then remembered the work that had been done in the bedrooms over the summer. Extra insulation had gone into the walls to add soundproofing after too many complaints to the manager. At this hour, most of her neighbors were already in bed and most likely wouldn't hear a thing.

Feeling his grip slacken, Samantha tried every trick she knew from her training in Quantico but Jack had the same training and about seventy pounds and several inches on her. She felt his fists hit her stomach, then her ribs. Somehow he managed to kick her in the back and she fell face forward into the carpet, her hand scattering the magazines she had been reading. He pulled her up by the hair and Samantha knew she was losing. Then she caught the look in his eyes and whimpered in fear. There would be no reasoning with Jack Malone tonight.

It cost him very little to overpower her and he dragged her into her bedroom by the scruff of her blouse. Once in the room, he glared at the red wall and snarled at her, "That message was for you!" He ripped the blouse from her slim body and pushed her onto the bed.

Samantha's head made brief contact with the headboard and she was momentarily stunned.

It was long enough for him to rip the pants down her legs. As he straddled her bare legs tightly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. The blade caught her eyes, "No! Stop, Jack! Please!" Ignoring her continued pleas and slapping her hand away, he carefully cut off her panties and with one flick of the knife, flayed open her bra. "This is how I remember you best!" he whispered.

Her wrist throbbed painfully and she could feel the blood oozing from her head. She was dizzy and terrified. The tears silently made their way down the sides of her face into the pillow.

In one swift movement, Jack was fully on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head. "That damned interloper doesn't know you, Sam. I know you. He doesn't love you, I do! You're mine! Not his!"

She never saw him take off his pants, but after his declaration of love and ownership he forced her thighs apart and began to rape her. She begged him to stop, but her cries went unheeded. At one point, he backhanded her to get her to stop crying, but she couldn't.

With one final thrust he came forcefully and collapsed heavily on her. He began to stoke her face, "I've loved you a long time, Samantha Spade! Why you started up with _him_, I'll never know!"

Praying silently, Sam hoped he'd leave, but doubted he would. She was still crying softly and winced as his weight made every bruise he had given her feel deeper. His grip on her left wrist pulled the breath from her lungs and she thought she might actually pass out from the pain. And then it was gone—not completely, but definitely less than before. She opened her eyes to find him sitting beside her. He was touching her still. His hands roamed over her stomach, breasts, arms, legs and face. She shuddered at his touch and resumed her quiet begging for him to leave her alone. "Please, stop. Please!"

He must have gotten bored with her front, because he flipped her onto her stomach and resumed his touching, removing the tattered remains of her bra in the process. Samantha suddenly remembered two things almost simultaneously—Jack liked having sex more than once and in more than one position, _and_ her backup weapon was just inches from her right hand in the nightstand drawer. Before Jack could do more than touch her, Sam reached into the drawer and pulled out the gun.

She rolled off the bed and aimed the weapon directly at his chest, "Get out!"

"Baby?" he was the picture of confusion.

"I mean it!" she kept the gun level and steady, "Get out of my apartment now! You have no right to be here. I'm not your 'baby' and I don't love you!"

Reason came back into his eyes and he looked at her in horror, "Samantha?" He started towards her.

"No!" Sam moved the barrel south and aimed at his member, "Get out now and I'll leave you intact." The tears continued to fall.

Jack wasted no time in gathering his pants and fled as quickly as he could.

Samantha heard the door close and lowered the gun to her chest. She curled into a ball and cried.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/__N: Thanks for the reviews Irish Avalon and Evans12! Oh, and Evans--this chapter should answer a few questions. ;)_

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**Chapter 13**

Martin tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the doors to open and he could get off the plane. The flight from DC to Newark was short, but it seemed twice as long as Martin's seatmate was an elderly woman who was intent on giving him her life story. Finally escaping the throng, Martin turned on his phone and dialed Sam's. It had only been a couple of hours since they last talked, but he couldn't wait to hear her voice.

Her cell phone rang and rang, going to voicemail after five rings. He ended the call and tried her house. That phone too went straight to voicemail. He sprinted towards the line of cabs and pulled out his badge. Jumping the line citing Federal business, he gave the driver Sam's address and told him it was ok to speed. In the back of the cab, Martin tried her numbers again with the same results. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and he silently urged the cabbie to go faster.

Throwing two twenties at the cabbie, Martin sprinted up the steps of Sam's building and took the stairs to her floor two at a time. He wasn't going to knock, just kick it open, but the door swung when he tried the knob. Martin set his bag down in the hall and drew his weapon. He had no idea what he'd find inside. He just prayed Samantha was all right.

Martin stepped over the broken picture glass and saw a splash of something dark on the carpet. The goblet under the table told him it was wine and not blood. He saw the magazines strewn around the floor and made his way quietly to the bedroom. Peering around the doorframe, he saw the bed was in disarray. Her ruined blouse and panties were at his feet and he swallowed hard before moving into the room.

"Sam?" Martin called softly. It was dark, but there was enough light from the living room for him to make out a shape on the floor. "Sam?"

She was curled in the comforter that usually graced the foot of her bed, rocking slightly and quiet. Martin couldn't see any part of her except her head. He holstered his gun and knelt at her side, "Samantha?" He could see the soft brown of her eyes had disappeared into the inky darkness of her pupils—she was in shock. Martin gently lifted her chin so she could see him. As he tipped her face, the light from the living room showed a dark bruise on her left cheek. He felt her pull back, "Sam? It's Martin. I'm here."

"Martin?" her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, I'm here. I've got you now," he tried to reach for her again, but she pulled farther back. "Oh, Sam!" his heart sank.

"Martin?" some of the blankness had gone from her face as she realized he was truly there. She started to cry, "Martin? I'm sorry! I tried! I tried!"

"Shh, Sam. Don't worry about that now." He reached for his phone, "I want you to go to the hospital, Sam. Do I call the paramedics? Or can I take you?" Martin knew she had to have control over the situation—at least in some part. There was no way she wasn't going to go see a doctor.

"You. I trust you," she told him through her tears in a small voice, her eyes briefly meeting his.

"Ok," Martin saw the pain clearly in her eyes so he reached out and squeezed her blanketed shoulder, "I'm going to call Vivian first and have her meet us, ok?"

"'K," Sam said from her self-styled cocoon, secure in the knowledge that Martin wouldn't hurt her and would make sure she stayed safe.


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you to Irish Avalon, Evans 12, Squealing Lit Fan and JJ-Reid-01 for your reviews!! They are much appreciated!_

_A/N: This chapter carries a warning for difficult content._

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**Chapter 14**

"Excuse me, is Dr. Friend working tonight?" Vivian asked the intake nurse at St. Luke's emergency room.

He looked at his schedule and nodded, "Yep. Do you need medical assistance?'

"No," she pulled her badge, "one of my coworkers is on her way and I think Dr. Friend is just the person to see her."

"I'll page her for you. Why don't you have a seat over there," he pointed to the back wall of chairs, "and I'll have her come out."

"Thanks." The ER wasn't very busy so Vivian didn't have to wait long.

A tall, slender, light-skinned African American woman stepped though the doorway, "Vivian? What are you doing down here? Are you hurt?" She motioned for Vivian to come with her and led her to a private room down a short hallway.

"I'm fine, Marilynn. But my friend, Samantha, is on her way. Martin called and asked me to meet them here and I asked for you," Vivian perched on the gurney.

"Samantha and Martin? The colleagues you keep talking about? Why are they headed here?" Dr. Marilynn Friend sat next to Vivian on the gurney.

Vivian sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, "I'll tell you what I know, Mari. The rest, we'll have to see when Sam gets here." She proceeded to tell the doctor about the past eleven weeks of stalking, paying special attention to the destruction of Sam's apartment and the most recent gifts.

"Yikes! Poor girl!"

"And poor Martin. This hasn't been easy on him either. I don't think it _could_ be easy, knowing your girlfriend's the target of a stalker," Vivian replied.

There was a soft knock on the door, "Excuse me, Dr. Friend. I think your patient's arrived." Behind the burly nurse, Vivian could see Martin carrying Samantha.

"Bring her in," Dr. Friend called, hoping off the gurney and handing Vivian a hospital gown. "I'm going to ask you to help her into that before I come back in, Viv. She knows you. It'll be easier on her to have you here."

Vivian just nodded and took the gown. She watched Martin put Samantha onto the gurney.

Martin stood back from the gurney and swallowed hard, Sam looked so lost. He leaned over and whispered, "I'll be outside if you need me. I love you." He smiled weakly at Vivian and left the two women alone.

"Hi, Sam," Vivian moved closer.

Samantha looked at her friend with bright eyes, "I tried to stop him, Viv. I really tried!"

Vivian went into mother-hen mode, "Shh, Samantha. I know you did everything you could. I know you did. Shh, sweetie." She reached over and pulled Sam into her arms, rocking gently, "Shh, it'll be all right. You're safe now." When Vivian could feel Sam calming down she decided it was time to get her treated. "Do you remember the doctor that was in here earlier? That's Dr. Marilynn Friend and she's going to take care of you, Samantha."

"You know her? You trust her?" Sam was leery. It had taken less than an hour to shatter her trust in others.

"Yes, I trust her, Sam. She's my sister-in-law and one of the best trauma doctors in the city," Vivian held the gown open in front of Sam and started to pull down the comforter. Once her arms were free, Vivian could see the awful swelling of her left wrist and Samantha's back-up weapon still firmly gripped in her right hand. "Let it go, Samantha. He can't hurt you here," Vivian pried the gun from Sam's hand and eased her arm into the gown, tucking the gun into her own pocket. Even more gently, she eased Sam's left arm into the gown.

Vivian was shocked to see the number of bruises on Sam's body, but even more shocking were the bite marks on her chest. Whoever did this to her was certifiable. Helping Samantha work free from the comforter, Vivian found a blanket folded under the gurney and spread it over her, brushing her hair back from her face and looked deep into her big eyes, "I'm staying right here, Sam. I promise. Don't worry." Once Vivian pulled the gun from Sam's hand, she hadn't let go for an instant and once she was completely free from the comforter, her grip tightened.

A knock at the door announced the doctor's return, "Everything ok, Vivian?"

She looked to Sam who nodded, "Yep, we're good. Samantha? This is my sister-in-law, Dr. Marilynn Friend." Vivian tipped her head in the doctor's direction, "Mari's the best."

"Hello, Samantha," Marilynn kept her voice low and moved slowly to Sam's side. "That wrist looks painful. Can I splint it for you?" she waited for permission before doing anything.

A soft sigh of relief escaped Sam when the splint went on. Outside support meant she didn't have to try to keep it still on her own. "Thanks."

"No problem," Dr. Friend pulled a tray closer. "I'd like to help you more. May I?" She didn't miss the flicker of Sam's eyes to Vivian and back, "Oh, don't worry, Viv's staying. I know she vouched for me, but you don't know me. And I'll tell you what I'm doing every step of the way, all right?"

Sam thought for a moment before nodding.

"Good. I want to start with a couple of questions. First, do you know the man who did this to you?"

Vivian held her breath. For eleven weeks they had been chasing her stalker though old cases and new, without finding even a fingerprint to point them in the right direction.

Biting her lower lip, Sam nodded.

"Who?" the question escaped Vivian before she could even stop herself.

Samantha closed her eyes, feeling the tears start to leak out again. "J—j—jack," she whispered.

"Jack? As in Jack, your boss?" Marilynn asked. She had heard about him from Vivian, but had never met the man. Seeing the injuries he inflicted on her patient, she was glad. If she ever met him, he wouldn't leave the meeting a whole man.

Vivian felt her knees give way and sank into a chair Mari had brought over. Her grip on Sam's hand tightened and she closed her own eyes. Jack stalked Samantha? He did it under all of their noses? Why? Why would he do such a thing? She had seen flashes of Jack's temper as he interviewed suspects, but she never though he'd turn that temper on someone he once claimed to love. Her eyes flew open when she heard Sam whimper.

"I tried to stop him, Viv," Sam cried harder. "I used everything I ever learned, but he was stronger, bigger. He knew all the counters. I couldn't get away, Viv! I couldn't!" her voice rose until she was almost screaming.

"Shh," Vivian pushed aside her own horror at Jack's actions to focus on Samantha. No matter what she thought about her boss, her primary focus had to be Sam, it had to be. "Shh, sweetie, shh," Vivian wiped the tears from Sam's cheeks for her, "I believe you, Sam. I know you did everything right. Calm down now. We believe you."

Marilynn forced Sam to look at her, "I'm going to say this several times. Vivian will too. What happened tonight wasn't your fault, Samantha. Say it. Say, 'It wasn't my fault' and mean it." Over the course of her career Dr. Friend had treated more cases of rape committed by someone known to the victim than she could count. If Samantha was ever going to recover emotionally, she had to start believing she wasn't at fault.

"It…it wasn't…it wasn't my…my fault," Sam stuttered through her tears but said it with conviction.

"Good girl!" Marilynn smiled. "Keep saying it, Samantha. Even if it's only in your head, keep saying it." She let the smile fall from her face, "Now for a harder question. When was your last period?"

"Um, almost three weeks," Sam whispered. Suddenly her brain kicked in, her thoughts ran a mile a minute and she closed her eyes.

Marilynn caught Vivian's gaze and they both winced. Dr. Friend reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a pad, "Samantha, I'm writing you a prescription for the morning-after pill series. You're going to take the first pill tonight and the second tomorrow. It isn't a 100 guarantee…"

"But better than the alternative," Sam finished for her. "Although, with the past three months, the only way I've been remotely regular is thanks to the pill," she bit her lower lip, "Isn't it just like the pill anyway?"

"In a way," the doctor explained, "essentially they are the same drug, just different dosages at different rates of delivery. And since we know the pill isn't 100 effective either, better to err on the side of caution."

Sam nodded and squeezed Viv's hand tighter, "After him stalking me, that would be too much."

Vivian pulled her into a hug, "I agree." The knot in her belly tightened and Vivian wondered again what had possessed Jack to stalk and rape his former lover.

"I have one last question before I start my exam," Dr. Friend made sure she had eye contact, "It's the hardest question because it has long-term effects. Do you want to press charges?"

Sam looked to Vivian, "I don't know."

Vivian returned her look, "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, Sam. You're a Federal Officer. You have to report any crime that happens to you or that you witness." Part of her wished she could tell Sam that she didn't have to. That she could get cleaned up and go home and forget all about what happened tonight and the previous eleven weeks; but she couldn't do that.

But what Vivian said seemed to have the opposite effect than she feared. Sam's eyes lost some of the haunted look they had and she seemed stronger than before. Her grip on Vivian's hand eased, "Yes," she said, her voice strong, "I want to press charges. It's my job to protect others when I can. I can do that now. I'm pressing charges!"

Bending close to her ear, Vivian whispered, "I'm so proud of you!"

Sam leaned her head towards Vivian and met her eyes, "Just don't leave, ok?" a little of the fear crept back into her eyes. Doing her job was one thing; dealing with the personal side, the physical side, that was a completely separate thing and Sam knew she needed Vivian's moral support if she was going to go through the whole process.

"I'm right here, Samantha. The whole way."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

In the ER waiting room, Martin paced back and forth as he waited for Danny and news on Samantha. He kept thinking how he should have never gone to DC. That if he had been with Sam, she'd have been safe.

"Stop pacing and sit down before I knock you down," Danny put his hand on Martin's shoulder and guided him to a chair. Once they were seated, Danny forced Martin to look at him, "It wasn't your fault you got pulled to DC, so quit beating yourself up and tell me what happened to Sam."

Before Martin could even open his mouth another familiar face sat on his other side. "I hope you don't mind, but Agent Taylor called me on his way over here," Dr. Lisa Harris explained. "Whatever happened tonight was just the final act of the past eleven weeks. Samantha and I, as well as you and I, have been talking quite a bit and I wanted to be here for her if she decides to talk about what happened," she said softly to Martin.

"I appreciate it, Lisa, thanks." Martin was truly glad she was here. He was afraid of what Sam would say—especially about who had been behind all of the mean and frightening acts.

Danny couldn't wait. He had to know what happened to his 'sister,' "Martin, what _did _happen?"

"I've only got conjecture," he began, "remember the big flower print she liked so much?"

"Liked?" Lisa asked.

Martin nodded, "Yeah, well, and remember this is just conjecture, but I'm pretty sure she got slammed up against it. There was glass everywhere. And a glass of wine spilled on the carpet." He had closed his eyes to better remember the scene when he arrived. "The lights were still on in the living room, but the bedroom was dark. I saw her blouse on the floor all torn up and her underwear," he stopped, unable to continue.

Both Lisa and Danny laid a hand on his shoulder to offer the scant bit of comfort they could. After a couple of minutes, Martin regained composure and resumed his report, his eyes never leaving the cracked tile at his feet.

"So I went into her bedroom and I found her on the floor. She had the comforter up to her chin and she was rocking back and forth. Her eyes—god it scared me—they were all black and she didn't seem to know it was me at first. I tried to touch her, but she pulled back. It took a few moments, but she seemed to come out of it a bit and then she tried to apologize. Like it was her fault!" His voice rose until he felt Dr. Harris' hand on his arm and he forced himself to calm down. "Sorry. I just don't understand why he would do that to her. I mean, yeah, he was stalking her, but all his notes said he loved her and wanted her to love him. Why did he hurt her?" The confusion and hurt were clear on his face.

"I don't know, Martin," Lisa started, "We may never know what was going on in his head—especially if we don't know who this guy is. I hope Samantha can tell us who did this to her. It will help her heal if she can put a name to the terror that has been chasing her for almost three months."

Danny hadn't said a word since he asked what happened. His fists were clenched tight in his lap and a dark scowl sat on his face. He hadn't felt this helpless in a long time. Some maniac had beaten and raped one of his best friends and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Without a word, he walked quickly to the nearest men's room. He was trying to separate the paper towel dispenser from the wall with his bare fists when Martin came in.

"That won't help Sam, Danny," Martin said.

"I don't care!" Danny punctuated each word with another blow to the dispenser.

Martin grabbed his fists before he could break them, "But I do. And so does Sam. This won't help," he repeated.

Without warning, Danny collapsed to his knees, "I hate that there are people out there that do shit like this to other people! I thought I wanted to be a lawyer to help protect people and then I saw an ad for the FBI. And I thought, no, becoming a lawyer means I'll see people after they get into trouble. But if I become a Fed, than maybe I can help people before they fall." He looked up at Martin who was still holding his fists. "I got it wrong, Martin. All we see is the crap people sling at each other. Maybe I'm not cut out for this gig anymore."

Pulling his friend to his feet, Martin put one arm around the other man, "Don't think like that, brother. You do good every day. Even if it is just keeping the rest of us from pulling our hair out, you do good." Martin let him go and grinned, "Besides, I'm not ready to open that shoe store yet!" he saw Danny relax, "Come on, I don't want Dr. Harris coming in here looking for us."

When they sat back down, Lisa couldn't help but do her job, "It's ok to be angry."

Danny sighed, "I know. I just hate it when the bad guys come after my friends."

"Don't we all," she replied, a grim smile on her face.

"So what do we do now?" Martin asked.

Lisa collected her thoughts for a moment. She knew Samantha was very special to both the men sitting with her—in two very different ways. "Be supportive," she started. "Let Samantha tell you what she wants and don't push. Everyone reacts differently. I wish I could hand you a pamphlet and say 'today Samantha will be at this stage of her recovery.' But it doesn't work like that. Samantha is a very strong individual. She has relied on just herself for a long time. Trust has always been an issue." Lisa paused, "I know I'm not breaking Samantha's confidence by telling you these things. From our conversations, I know you already know all of this about her. I just need to remind you. What happened tonight may send her back in her shell, and it may not," she smiled at the two worried men, "Both of you have a relationship with her that has helped her overcome her issue with trust. I think, I hope, that those relationships will only benefit her as she recovers."

"Well put," Dr. Friend pulled a chair closer to face the small group. "Sorry to eavesdrop, but you've hit it dead on. I'm Marilynn Friend. I've been treating Samantha." She shook everyone's hands and got introductions.

"Wait a minute!" Danny pointed a finger at the doctor, "You're Viv's sister-in-law!"

Marilynn nodded, "Yeah, that's me. And I've been hearing good things about you Danny Taylor!"

Martin coughed politely, "It's really nice to meet you, but how's Sam?"

"Right, sorry." Marilynn clasped her hands and leaned forward, "He was really rough on her. There's bruising on her stomach and lower back that has me concerned about internal bleeding; so I'm keeping her here for a couple of days. Her left wrist is cracked in several places, but not broken. She's fighting a mild concussion from hitting a picture. It took us a while to get all the glass out of her scalp. And I probably don't have to say it, but he raped her."

"Can I see her?" Martin asked quietly.

Dr. Friend shook her head, "Not yet. Vivian's getting her settled—shower, clean clothes, that kind of thing. I told Viv we'd give her a good hour or so before coming up."

"Did she say who did this to her?" Danny wanted—needed—to know.

Marilynn's eyes met Lisa's, "She did," she held a hand up to forestall the next question, "It's not my place to say. Samantha did ask to see you both," she nodded to the two men. "It is my opinion that she doesn't want to keep this a secret and would like to tell you tonight." She noted the relief in both of their faces. "Tell you what," Marilynn stood, "Let me buy you all a cup of really bad coffee and we can discuss Samantha's treatment in more detail."

* * *

Thanks again for your lovely reviews!! And I just feel the need to say that I don't really hate Jack--I just like messing with his mind! One just has to thank the actors for giving us writers such great fodder to play with!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

A little more than an hour later, Dr. Friend led the trio to a quiet floor of the hospital. She stopped before entering a private room, "I'm going to make sure she's settled. There's a waiting room at the end of the hall. I'll come find you."

There wasn't much point in arguing with Sam's doctor. If they wanted to see her, her doctor had to approve. Danny led the way and sank into a fairly comfortable sofa. He saw Dr. Harris and Martin take similar positions on the armchairs opposite. No one said a word; they were all caught up in their own turbulent thoughts.

About fifteen minutes passed before Dr. Friend came for them. "Please don't be offended about what I'm about to say, although I probably don't have to say this to three members of the FBI. Don't raise your voice. Let Samantha take the lead and if she asks you to leave, do it." Marilynn stopped Martin, "Don't be upset with her if she doesn't want you to touch her. Remember it isn't her; it was the stalker. And if she tries to blame herself, remind her it wasn't her fault."

Martin nodded. He understood her reminders and wasn't offended, in fact, he was grateful. He knew his desire to protect Sam sometimes overwhelmed his better judgment and at the moment, he wasn't thinking too clearly.

Marilynn held the door open and Martin went in first. Samantha was tucked in bed but sitting up wearing a set of pale green scrubs in lieu of the typical open hospital gown. Vivian was sitting next to her, Sam's uninjured hand in hers. Martin suspected that Sam hadn't let go all night. He looked her over, her eyes were red and there were dark circles under them. The bruise on her cheek looked worse than it had a couple of hours ago. Her hair was still damp from her shower and hung loosely around her shoulders. She looked completely exhausted and he knew it was more than the opportunity to see him and Danny that was keeping her awake.

Sam's grip on Vivian tightened when she heard the door open, then relaxed when she saw Martin. She pulled her knees up and offered him the bare spot on the bed. "Sit here, please?"

Sam wanted him close.

He smiled and sat as close to her as possible, "This ok?" When she nodded, he raised his hand and moved it close to her knee, "This ok, too?" Her knee felt warm under the blanket and he squeezed it gently.

Danny had followed Martin into the room and put one hip on the windowsill. He didn't like the paleness to Sam's face nor the purple bruise that sat in sharp contrast. Dr. Harris took the other chair that was beside the window and sat on its edge. Danny caught Sam's surprised look at Lisa's entrance, "Sorry, Sam. She followed me here."

"It's ok, Danny," Sam said quietly. "I'm glad you're here," she said to Lisa. "I don't think I'll be able to say this more than one time tonight and I need you to know."

Dr. Friend closed the door behind her and left the agents alone. She knew Vivian would protect Samantha if the need arose, but she really didn't foresee a problem.

"Samantha," Lisa started, "Dr. Friend said you knew your attacker—your stalker."

She nodded, "You do too," Sam whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek and her eyes looking at everyone.

Vivian felt the grip tighten and she reached over with her other hand and squeezed Sam's shoulder, "You can do this, Sam."

"I know," the tears fell faster. She closed her eyes, pulled in a deep breath and stopped crying. Opening her eyes she caught and held Martin's gaze before whispering, "It was J—jack." A single tear escaped down her cheek and she closed her eyes when Martin reached over to wipe it for her. She shifted her gaze to Danny, "You and Viv were still in New Rochelle and then I finished talking to Martin," a soft sob escaped and she looked to Lisa, "It was his turn to take me home anyway since he swapped with Danny, I didn't think anything of it."

"It's alright, Samantha," Dr. Harris told her, "I think we all would have felt the same way."

Sam gripped Vivian's hand tighter. Vivian kept her promise and hadn't left her side; not though the very thorough physical exam and evidence collection, not though the x-rays of her wrist and MRI scan of her back, not once. But in all that time, Samantha hadn't told Vivian what actually happened. This was the first time, although probably not the last, that she was telling her whole story. "He wasn't acting normal," Sam resumed after a few minutes, "He was tense and quiet. On the way to my place, I tried to get him to talk about his girls—they always seem to calm him and make him happy. He said Maria's making it hard for him to see them and that she didn't want him coming this weekend. When we got to my place, I invited him in for a glass of wine. I couldn't send him to his empty apartment like that.

"I just thought he'd come in for a little while and then I could send him home," the tears started to run down her cheeks again, "It didn't take much to figure out he was my stalker when he said he was angry I'd painted over his messages. I threw my wine at him and ran for the door, but he caught me." Sam commented absently, "I really liked that print Lucy gave me," before trailing off into silence.

The whole room was silent for several long minutes. Lisa could see Samantha shutting down and knew she needed not to stop, "Then what happened, Samantha?" she asked quietly.

"Um, after he slammed me into the wall he said he had it all planned," her eyes swung back to Martin's, "He said he was going to get rid of you so he could have me all to himself! I tried every trick I ever learned at Quantico and some I made up just to get away, but he's stronger and bigger," her lower lip quivered, "He won and then he dragged me to the bedroom by my blouse. He ripped it off and threw me on the bed. I think I hit the headboard because I don't remember much about the next few minutes. I know he got my pants off and pulled out his pocketknife. I tried to grab it, but I missed and then he started to hit me again and then," Sam looked at Martin though her tears and couldn't continue. She just cried harder.

Vivian was her anchor and used the hand not clenched in Samantha's to stroke her friend's hair—mindful of the myriad of cuts from the glass.

Danny's whole body was stiff with shock. From the moment Sam whispered Jack's name he couldn't move, could hardly breathe. His mind ran over everything he had seen and heard from his boss over the past three months, trying to pinpoint instances that caused him to snap and turn on Samantha.

Dr. Harris had put her face in her hands. She knew Agent Malone had been under a great deal of personal and professional stress and was berating herself for not forcing him to come talk to her.

Martin felt his own eyes well with tears and he felt a surge of love and protection for the woman sobbing in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and make her feel safe again. He couldn't stop his arms from opening nor his anguished whisper, "Sam!"

She knew he'd never hurt her. She knew in his arms she was safe, so she let herself fall into them when he whispered her name. Samantha instantly felt loved and protected. His arms were gentle and steady. She let her hand slip from Vivian's and gripped the back of his shirt tightly. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of his aftershave and letting it soothe her. Sam shuddered once before whispering, "He bit me! He bit me and then he raped me!" her voice a mixture of bewilderment and anguish.

"I'll kill him!" The words were dark, hateful and venomous.

Samantha turned in Martin's arms towards the window, "Danny! No!"

His fists were clenched again and he could hardly contain his fury at his boss, "You can't stop me, Sam. He said he loved you and then he hurt you. He has to pay for that!"

"He _will_ pay, Danny," Vivian moved to his side and she forced him into the chair she vacated. "We'll make sure of it. But you can't go after him when you're like this." She ran her hand over his back, trying to calm him. "We're Federal Agents, Danny. We have to take care of this legally; Sam's going to press charges. He _will_ pay for what he's done."

Lisa stood and faced the window, seeking solace in the twinkling lights of the city. "He'll have fled the city by now. We'll have to catch him and if anyone knows how to hide, it's Agent Malone."

Martin felt Sam flinch at his name but had to continue his thought anyway, "Sam? How'd you get him to leave your apartment?"

She pulled herself from his arms and settled back into the pillows. As much as she loved being in his arms, the position was putting pressure on her bruises. "I remembered my backup. I pulled my gun on him," her voice was quiet. "I've never aimed my weapon at someone I know before. I've never aimed my weapon at someone without knowing I was willing to shoot them either," her eyes locked with Lisa's, "If he had come after me, I would have shot him and I wouldn't feel guilty."

"As well you shouldn't," she replied.

"Where's the gun now?" Martin asked. "I don't remember seeing it at your place."

"I have it," Vivian patted her pocket. She saw Sam's energy was completely gone. "Danny? Why don't I take you home? We can meet at the office tomorrow and start looking for him." She leaned over and hugged Sam gently, "If you need anything, just call me, ok?"

"Thanks, Viv," Sam answered.

Danny stood and kissed her unmarred cheek, "Night, Sam," he caught the warning look in her eyes and placed a hand over his heart, "I promise I won't hurt him when we find him."

"Good. Night, Danny."

"I'll come see you tomorrow," Lisa squeezed her hand.

Sam smiled tiredly, "Thanks for listening." She watched the three leave and let a sigh escape when the door closed behind them.

Martin was still sitting on the bed. He watched the last of the tension leave her body as she sank completely into the bed, "It's ok that I stay, right?"

"More than ok, Martin. I need you. Here, with me," she patted the space beside her, "I need you to hold me and tell me it will be alright." She was tired and couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks again.

He needed no more urging or convincing. Martin stretched out beside her on the narrow hospital bed and gently held her close, "It'll be alright, Sam. It'll be alright," he felt her cuddle closer, "Go to sleep now. I've got you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Early the next morning, Martin was woken up by an elbow being jammed into his ribs. Without opening his eyes, he heard Sam moan, "No! Stop!"

He quickly realized she was caught in a nightmare and he shook her shoulder, "Sam! Wake up!" Martin sat up and continued to wake her, "Come on, Sam! Wake up now."

Her eyes flew open and she stopped struggling, "Martin?"

"Um-hm," he stroked her cheek, "You're safe, Sam."

Her eyes filled, "Why did he do it, Martin? Why?" Sam sobbed.

Gently, Martin helped her sit and then held her close, "I don't know, Sam. I wish I could tell you, but I don't know why."

He continued to hold and rock her until a soft knock interrupted them, "Morning, Samantha," Marilynn Friend moved to the bed and laid a hand on her patient's back.

Sam pulled back from Martin, "I had a nightmare. It—it was awful!"

"It will get better, though, Samantha," Marilynn told her. "It will take a while, but it will get better." She waited until Sam calmed a bit more, "I was wondering if I could check your back and stomach again. I want to make sure you aren't bleeding internally."

Martin watched Sam nod hesitantly, agreeing to the exam, "Why don't I step out for a bit? Go call Danny and Viv?" He knew she needed him here during the night, but that she'd be embarrassed for him to see her being examined.

"Thanks, Martin," Sam said gratefully. He could read her like a book and having him here while the doctor was checking her over was not on her agenda.

"I'll be back soon," he kissed her temple and quietly left. Once outside her room, Martin checked his watch. Considering the late hour Vivian and Danny left, it was too early to call them, but he knew his father would be wide-awake. Walking swiftly to the waiting room where he could use his cell, Martin rehearsed what he was going to say.

"Fitzgerald," the voice on the other end sounded tired.

Martin chuckled despite the sound in his father's voice, "Mom yells at me when I answer the phone like that!"

Victor joined his son in laughter, "Yeah, she gets on my case too. What can I do for you at this early hour Martin?"

"Sam," Martin started. Funny how easy it sounded in his head but how difficult it was to actually say the words, "Sam was attacked last night, Dad," he said in a rush.

"Attacked! How? Who?" He was so sure his agents would find her stalker before something like this happened.

Martin sat on the sofa in the waiting room and ran his hand though his hair, "Dad, I—god this is really hard to say aloud—it was someone we all knew, Dad. Sam's stalker. Right under my goddamned nose!" He didn't stay down for long and started to pace the small room.

"Martin? Son? Calm down, you aren't making much sense," Victor wished he could see his son at this moment. He knew he wasn't going to like hearing what Martin was about to say and had he been there, well; it might just have made it a bit easier.

"Sorry. It's just—shit!" Martin stopped pacing, "It was Jack, Dad. Jack Malone stalked and raped my girlfriend—a fellow agent for god's sake!"

Victor almost dropped the phone. It was worse than he feared. "Martin? Is he still there?"

"Thankfully, no. Sam pulled her gun on him and he fled," Martin sat back down on the sofa. "Viv and Danny are going into the office later today to try and find him." A thought flew through his head, "Dad? I know you've had agents looking into her stalking, but _we_ need to find him. For Samantha's sake, it has to be Danny, Viv and me. Please, Dad?"

"Of course it has to be the three of you. I'll have my agents compile their findings and give it to the US Attorney's office." Victor swallowed, "How's Samantha?"

Martin closed his eyes, "He beat her up pretty badly, Dad. Her doctor's worried about internal bleeding. He fractured her wrist and slammed her head into a picture. She's got a huge bruise on her face and smaller ones on her arms and legs—and that's just the physical stuff."

The deputy director ran a hand over his face. At his niece's wedding, he met a strong, beautiful woman who had stolen his son's heart. He wondered what he'd find when he got to New York this time. "Has she spoken to anyone—a professional?"

"Yeah," Martin sighed, "Danny called Lisa Harris and she was here last night. Sam and I have been seeing her since the second box of flowers arrived about all of this."

"You have?" He was surprised Martin would willingly see a psychologist.

"Um-hm, there were things I needed to talk about, but I didn't want to worry Sam more and since I knew she was seeing Lisa, it just made sense," Martin stretched his neck.

Victor smiled, "I'm glad you talked to someone, Martin. Something like this could tear a man apart."

"It almost did, Dad," Martin admitted quietly. "I love her and it hurts when she's in pain. He almost ruined everything…"

"But he didn't, Martin. I know this isn't easy, but you have to stay positive. You'll find him; he'll stand trial and go to jail. For a long time if I have anything to say about it," Victor growled. "Nobody hurts my family and gets away with it!"

It was Martin's turn to almost drop the phone, "When did Samantha become part of the family? I thought you said she wasn't good enough."

"I know I did and I'm sorry I ever said that. When you brought her to Julie's wedding, any fool could see you love her and she loves you. So I decided to stop basing my distrust on rumor and past indiscretions and go on what I could see." Victor waited though the long silence on the other end of the phone, "Martin? Are you still there?"

Martin shook his head in confusion, "Yeah, I'm still here. I'm just in shock! The Great and Powerful Victor Fitzgerald just admitted he was wrong!"

He laughed, "Don't let it go to your head, son. It happened now, and it's been known to happen before, and I'm sure it will happen again sometime in the future. I'm going to make sure it's all right with your mother and then I'm coming to New York. I want to be there when they put the cuffs on that bastard."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

As soon as he hung up with his father, Martin's phone began to ring, "Fitzgerald." He smiled to himself remembering his dad answering the same way.

"Martin? How's Sam?" Danny sounded tired.

"Well, she slept ok until about an hour ago," Martin yawned, "when she woke me up with a nightmare. Dr. Friend's with her now, she wanted to check Sam over again."

Danny echoed Martin's yawn, "Stop that, man! You're making me do it! Anyway, Viv just called and we're heading over to the office. Dr. Harris is on her way to the hospital to stay with Sam, if you want to join us."

"I do. I need to tell you and Viv about the very strange phone call I just had with my dad," Martin shook his head in disbelief. "I'll wait until Dr. Harris gets here and then I'll be over."

"Do you have a change of clothes in your locker?" Danny asked, suddenly remembering Martin had yet to go all the way home.

He rubbed his neck, "I don't remember."

"Well, why don't I stop by your place and bring a change of clothes to the office for you," Danny offered.

"Sounds like a plan. Casual?"

"Jeans it is," Danny grabbed Martin's spare key from his drawer. "Anything else?"

"Nah, I'll grab coffee on my way over. See ya in a bit," Martin needed to finish the call, Sam's doctor was standing in the doorway.

"Hasta pronto, Martin."

"Marilynn? Is something wrong with Sam?" Martin closed his phone, worry clear on his face.

Dr. Friend shook her head, "Not wrong, exactly. I'm still a little worried about her back. You can actually see the heel impression from his shoe. It's directly over her left kidney and I don't like the color the bruising is turning. I've scheduled another MRI to rule out internal damage or bleeding."

"When?" Martin breathed the question.

She checked her watch, "About twenty minutes from now." Marilynn gave him a hard look, "Are you going to find him?"

"As soon as Lisa gets here, yeah, I'm headed over to the office. Danny and Viv are going now."

"If you—_when_ you find him…" Marilynn looked at her nails. She was about to ask for something completely against medical ethics.

Martin hesitantly put a hand on her arm, "When we find him, he'll never hurt Samantha or anyone else again. I promise you that."

"I'm supposed to be above all that petty revenge stuff. You know, do no harm and all that," Marilynn gave him a self-deprecating smile. "But though Vivian, I feel like I know the team and…it hurt last night to see both Vivian and Samantha in such pain."

"I kinda feel like I know you too," Martin squeezed her arm, "Viv doesn't talk a lot about stuff outside work, but your name comes up and she always has good things to say." He could see she was still struggling with the ethics of her thoughts, "Mari," he used Viv's nickname for her, "that you care, that it hurts you to see others in pain—both emotional and physical—well, that has to make you a better doctor. Right?"

She nodded, "That's what my husband says too. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Martin squeezed her arm once more. "I think I'll go back with Sam. Let her know what's going to happen today."

* * *

"What'cha got, Viv?" Danny called out.

"Nothing," she slammed the stack of printouts on the table. "No phone activity since he attacked Sam. I even tried calling and it went straight to voicemail. You?"

"Nada. Nothing on his credit cards. Did you find anything on his car?" Danny asked Martin.

He flipped to the last page, "Nope. No tolls with Easypass. Nothing on the APB on his car either."

Viv sighed, "He's fallen off the radar and I don't think he'll resurface anytime soon."

"So Sam gets to just twist in the wind?" Danny's face was incredulous.

Martin shook his head, "No, she doesn't. But Jack's not stupid. He knew I was checking in with her as soon as I got back from DC. He has to know that I found her and that we all know."

Vivian gave him a measured look, "You've got an idea."

"I do," Martin spun his phone on the table, "We've got to con him into coming back here. He's got to think that he _has_ to come in."

Danny put his chin in his hand, "He won't buy it from Daddy Dearest, Martin."

"But from Van Doren?" he replied.

"That just might work," Danny looked at his teammates, "So who calls?"

Vivian smiled wickedly, "I do. This needs to happen woman to woman. I was going to call her today anyway. She needs to know what happened to Samantha."


	19. Chapter 19

_I just want to thank everyone who's reading -- but especially those who are reviewing!! You make my day!!_

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"I just sent him this," Paula Van Doren slid them each a copy of an email about an hour after she received Vivian's phone call. Her anger had cooled somewhat since Vivian told her about Samantha's attacker, but it wasn't gone completely and it rang through in her tone.

Danny picked it up and began to read aloud, "To: Jack Malone. From: P. Van Doren. Re: Margaret "Maggie" Mulcahey. FYI, Vivian got an anonymous tip and there is a viable lead. The father insists that you handle it personally. Call me ASAP to arrange meeting time for Monday."

"So all we have to do is hope he's checking his email from wherever he is and calls you?" Martin asked.

"Yep," Paula sat in one of the vacant chairs. Being with this team, with three people who had been victimized in a peripheral way and seeing how they were dealing with the situation helped cool her anger a bit more. Beneficial, she thought to herself, if she was going to speak directly to Agent Malone.

Vivian looked thoughtful, "Has anyone tried to backtrack Jack's account? Check that he's checking?"

Paula just smiled, "Way ahead of you!" She would have said more, but Mack rounded the corner and nodded purposefully. "Well, I expect my phone to ring any moment then."

"So, while we're waiting," Martin began doodling on the email, "Could someone fill me in on the Maggie Mulcahey case?"

"There's not much to tell, Martin," Vivian said. "Maggie was eight years old at the time of her disappearance almost ten years ago. She went missing in the two blocks between her bus stop and her house. There was no trace of foul play. The parents had solid alibis. No pedophiles were reported to be in the area. She just vanished."

"And Jack'll buy a new lead after all this time?" Danny was skeptical.

"He did with Chet Collins," Martin reminded him.

Just then, Van Doren's phone rang, "Hello? … Yes, I checked out personally. … Yes, I do think there is a good chance we'll find her alive. … Yes, I know it has been a long time. … So when can I expect you? … Nine it is, until tomorrow."

"So, we're all set?" Danny asked.

It was Vivian who shook her head, "No. Where's someone from Legal? They should talk to us and to Samantha before tomorrow."

"I'd like to introduce you all to US Attorney Alexa Tafoya and our in-house representative, Meagan Bettencourt," the Deputy Director's voice rang from the empty hallway in an act of either impeccable timing or sheer coincidence. He led the two women into the room and after swift introductions they all pulled up chairs at the central table.

The two women were sharp contrasts of each other. Alexa was a tall Hispanic with long dark brown hair twisted in a neat bun. She wasn't thin, but not fat either. Healthy, some would call her physique. She wore a dark grey suit that emphasized her long legs and the light pink shirt she wore under the jacket lit her face. Meagan, on the other hand, was a slim petite redhead with sharp blue eyes. Her hair was cut short in a messy bob that emphasized her high cheekbones. She wore a black pantsuit, not unlike the dozen or so that Samantha owned. Under the fitted jacket, she wore a stark white blouse that only emphasized the fact that she was someone who would burn rather than tan.

Paula Van Doren sat up straight in her chair, "Deputy Director, I didn't know you were coming."

Victor took a moment to wink at his son, "Well, where else do you expect me to be? Samantha Spade is a) one of our finest agents, b) has been brutalized for almost three months by another agent and, most importantly, c) practically my daughter-in-law. So I ask again, where else do you expect me to be?"

Martin could see Van Doren struggling with his father's statement and took pity on her, "Dad? How's Mom?"

"She's fine and sends her love," he turned to the rest of the team, "Now, how do we plan to arrest Agent Malone?"

Vivian gave him a quick run down on their morning's work before pausing to sip her lukewarm coffee, "So that's where we're at now."

Danny wasn't going to be left out, "I'm still not convinced Jack bought the whole Maggie Mulcahey story, but I guess as long as he gets here…"

Alexa Tafoya just took in the dynamics of the group. She could see that Agents Taylor and Fitzgerald were both struggling to contain their anger while Agent Johnson seemed tired and weary. She wondered what roles they played in Agent Spade's life. From the earlier discussion she gathered Spade and the younger Fitzgerald were an item.

Meagan Bettencourt already knew all about Martin and Samantha. She had even gossiped herself about the two of them with some of the other women on her floor and had even teased Samantha herself. They weren't good friends, but knew each other enough to exchange more than pleasantries. It had depressed her that Agent Fitzgerald hooked up with Agent Spade, every woman she knew wanted Martin to fall for them. But after seeing them at the local deli, she didn't doubt their devotion to each other. Meagan knew all about Sam's stalker as well. She could see the tired lines on Martin's face and wondered how he was holding up to the latest installment of Samantha's stalker. She decided to break the silence that had fallen, "I've worked with Agent Malone before and I know him to be a consummate agent. If he has a chance to break a case—especially one so old—I have no doubts he'll be in this office no later than 8:30 tomorrow morning."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," Danny cocked an eyebrow as he took in the redhead's soft blush. It made her eyes look even bluer than Martin's.

"Well, like I said, I've worked with him before," Meagan blushed deepened at his gaze.

Danny held out his hand and smirked, "Wanna bet?" He had completely forgotten the presence of Daddy Dearest. "What?" he felt an elbow to his ribs.

"Don't mind him, he's harmless," Vivian explained to the group. She shook her head at Danny's lack of professionalism and then at her own strictness when the situation really screamed out for comic relief. "So what do you need us to do?"

Alexa opened her briefcase and took out three folders, passing them out, "First, I need each of you to fill out incident reports. Tell me what you saw as far as the stalking. Dates, if you can remember. The more specifics I have, the better. Then, what did you see and hear last night. What did Samantha tell you personally? Did you see anything that wasn't there the last time you saw her?"

"Like the three-finger width bruise on her cheek?" Martin asked sarcastically. He quickly apologized, "Sorry. I hate seeing someone in pain—especially someone I'm close to."

"Just admit you love her, man!" Danny stage-whispered. Vivian saw the Deputy Director smile and she exchanged a wink with Paula. Both attorneys took in the banter and exchanged small smiles.

Martin blushed and looked his father in the eye, "I love her," he said quietly.

Danny laughed, "Now that that's over!"

Meagan opened her own case, "I have a few things I need your help on." She clicked a pen, "When did Agent Malone start stalking Agent Spade?"

For the next hour or so, Vivian, Danny, Martin, Paula and Victor helped the two attorneys get a good picture of what had been happening for the past eleven weeks. Before Vivian or Martin could start about the previous night's events, Meagan stopped them, "Don't say any more. We'd like to hear it from Samantha herself first. After that, then we'll talk to you."

"Then we're done?" Martin checked his watch, "I'd like to get back to Sam. Her MRI was hours ago and I want to make sure she's ok."

"Yes, we're done," Alexa gathered up her papers and snapped her briefcase shut. "Could Meagan and I come with you?"

Martin was about to say 'no' when Danny spoke up, "How about I drive? That way, Martin's free to stay with Sam and I can bring you back here for your cars later."

"Thanks, Danny," Martin smiled. "Dad? Are you staying at your usual hotel?"

Victor nodded, "Yes, and I've already arranged to have dinner with Albert Holly," he mentioned one of his oldest friends, "so don't worry about entertaining me."

Martin just nodded. His father's actions lately have sent his head spinning. '_Calling Samantha family; not needing constant father-son time? What had the world come to?_' he wondered.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Leaving Danny and the two attorneys in the waiting room, Martin pushed open the door to Samantha's room quietly. The scene before him tore at his heart. Sam was curled around herself, sobbing. Lisa Harris was trying to soothe her; one hand clenched in Sam's and the other working small circles on Sam's back.

Lisa looked up and caught Martin's gaze. She nodded at his silent question as to whether to come in or not. "Martin's here," she whispered to Samantha.

Sam didn't even try to stop crying. Lisa had been by her side during the MRI and after, when she had fallen asleep with the icepack easing the ache in her back. She had still been there, holding her hand, when she had woken up screaming from a nightmare just a few minutes ago. Though her tears, she watched him move into her line of vision. To his credit, he made no move to touch her, but his voice was soothing nonetheless. Somehow Martin seemed to know her needs better than she could ever say aloud. That he knew at this moment not to touch her warmed Sam's heart.

"Hi sweetheart," Martin sat on the edge of the chair, his head and hers at the same height. "Bad dream?"

"A—a—awful!"

"I'll bet," Martin kept his tone light. He knew Sam didn't particularly like overt sympathy. Better to just acknowledge her feelings than to have them turn on him. "I have some news that might help."

The flow of tears slowed and she freed her hand from Lisa's to wipe her face, "You found him?"

"In a way," Martin handed her a tissue, "Van Doren got him to agree to come to a meeting tomorrow morning. He thinks it's about a case."

Lisa looked skeptical, "He bought that?"

Martin met her gaze, "I wasn't on the phone with him, but from Van Doren's side of the conversation, yes, it appears he bought our story." He grinned, "She used the Maggie Mulcahey case."

"I remember hearing about that one," Sam sat up and put the icepack between her back and the bed, sighing as the cold eased the ache, happy the MRIs revealed nothing worse than some bad bruising. She wiped the last of the tears from her face, "There was a lead my first year with the team. J—he worked for days, but it didn't pan out. He'll come," she could see the doubt in both Lisa's and Martin's eyes. "No, he will. If it involves a child, he'll do just about anything."

"Ok," Lisa looked mollified, "So when he comes, what happens then?"

"Well, he'll be arrested," Martin answered.

"And then?" Sam whispered, her eyes fearful.

Knowing it was what she needed; he took her hand and continued, "Well, unless something about his personality changes, he'll go to trial."

"And I'll have to testify," her quiet voice was still fearful, but carried a hint of steel. She didn't want to get on a witness stand and tell her tale again, but to keep _him_ away from her or any other woman he decided was his, she'd do it.

Martin brushed back the hair that had fallen into her eyes, "Yeah, you will. But I'll be there too. And Danny, and Viv…"

"And me," Lisa handed Samantha another tissue as her tears began to fall again. "I'll probably have to testify as well, but I'll be there for you."

"Thank you."

"But we're rushing things," Martin had almost forgotten he brought other people with him. "Sam, there are two lawyers with Danny in the waiting room. They need to talk to you before they arrest J—him tomorrow. One of them is Meagan Bettencourt. The other is a woman from the US Attorney's office. They both interviewed Vivian, Danny and me earlier today. Will you talk to them?"

Samantha closed her eyes. Did she want to talk to them? Did she have a choice? She had agreed to press charges. This was the second step after her exam last night. She opened her eyes, "Will you stay?" she asked Martin.

"Of course."

Lisa collected her purse and sweater, "I'll tell them they can come in, and Samantha, I'll come see you tomorrow."

* * *

"Hiya, Sam!" Danny called as he opened the door. As he made his way to her bedside, he watched Martin help her adjust the icepack and then sit next to her on the bed. Danny leaned over and kissed her cheek, "You look better."

"Very funny, Danny," Sam self-consciously pushed her hair back and winced as the small cuts on her scalp made their presence known. "You and I both know I've looked better!"

Danny shrugged, "So what? At least you look better than you did last night. And to me, that's more important!" He looked to Martin, "Come on, man! Help me out!"

Martin laughed, "Danny, you are so on your own!" He turned to the two women, "Thanks for waiting."

"Not a problem. Hello, Samantha, I'm Alexa Tafoya. I work for the US Attorney's office and I'll be the lead prosecutor on this case," Alexa shook Samantha's hand.

"Hi, Samantha," Meagan also shook her hand. "I'll be acting as second chair and making sure the Bureau has a voice. We have some questions for you, if that's ok." She looked to both Danny and Martin.

Sam didn't miss her or Alexa's looks, "They've heard everything before. Is it ok if they stay?" Her hand tightened around Martin's.

Alexa pulled up a chair, "It's more than ok, Samantha. We want to make sure that you feel comfortable. I know this isn't easy."

There was something in the way she stressed her knowledge that made Samantha sit up and swallow hard, "You know, don't you. You know exactly what it's like to talk about…about…"

"Yes, Samantha," Alexa nodded, "I do know. The man who raped me was my boss too. He didn't stalk me, but I know exactly how you feel right now," as their eyes met, they connected and understood that they both had been initiated into the same horrible sorority.

Samantha immediately relaxed, "So what do you need to know?"

During this short exchange, Danny, Martin and Meagan exchanged glances and each breathed a sigh of relief. Jack Malone would get no mercy from this prosecutor.

"Agents Johnson, Fitzgerald and Taylor did a fairly good job of describing what happened during the weeks leading up to last night. Why don't you start there?" Meagan held her pen poised over a yellow legal pad.

Sam relaxed her grip and laced her fingers in Martin's and nodded, "Martin was in DC because his mother had a mild heart attack. Danny and Vivian were in New Rochelle with our latest missing person and his girlfriend; and because we still didn't know who my stalker was, J—Ja _he_ took me home…"

I would just like to thank those of you who are reading this!! I would especially like to thank those of you who review. Reviews are better than paychecks!! (Really? -- Yes, really! People pay me to do my job, you all review because you want to!!--See, better than paychecks!!)


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Danny, Vivian and Martin all tried to look very busy at 8 am the next morning. They were expecting Jack to roar in any minute. To keep up their ruse about Maggie Mulcahey, they had pulled her old case files out of storage and were re-constructing the timeline. If nothing else, it kept them busy and their eyes off the elevator doors.

"Ok, the bus driver said she got off at her usual stop at 3:12," Danny read to Martin who wrote the information on the line. "Then, Janey Wallace, her best friend, said that they said good-bye right after Maggie walked with her to her house. According to Vivian's notes, that would make it…um…"

"Come on, man," Martin teased, "Viv's handwriting isn't that bad!"

"Yeah!" Vivian spoke up in her own defense. "Let me see that," she grabbed the notes from Danny's hand and pointed to the pertinent line, "Right here, Danny-boy. 3:17." She thrust the notes back into his hand and resumed her search through the box for the rest of the records.

"Oh, that's a '7'??" Danny scoffed and waited for Martin to finish writing. "After that, no one remembers seeing her."

Martin capped the pen, "Once she left Janey's, she had to go down that block, around the corner and across the street." He went to the map he had pinned up earlier. With a finger, he traced the route, "If anyone was watching, she could have been snatched after she rounded the corner or as she crossed the street." He looked up sharply, "Viv? When Reggie was eight, did you let him cross the street by himself?"

Vivian shook her head, "No. But he was in preschool the year Maggie disappeared. So there was no way I was letting him cross the street, walk home or just about anything by himself when he was eight. Why?"

"Well, if her parents were accounted for. Who walked Maggie home every day? I mean, Maggie walked with Janey. Why wasn't there someone to walk with Maggie?" Martin went to the heart of the matter.

"No one walked home with her because that's how her parents wanted it," Jack was still in his coat and had yet to go to his office, but decided to see what his team was up to anyway.

"Oh, ok," Martin shrugged.

"Van Doren's in your office," Danny pointed to the closed and shuttered door. "She said she needed to talk to you before Maggie's father came in."

Jack took in each of his agents. There didn't seem to be any visual hostility from any of them. He quietly noted Samantha's absence and felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. His eyes wandered back to Martin, watching the younger agent flip through the stack of interview notes. Did he know what had happened Friday? Did she keep what happened a secret? A stern voice interrupted his reverie.

"Agent Malone, a word?" Paula Van Doren called from his office. What Jack didn't know, was that in his office were two attorneys, the Deputy Director and two FBI Police officers.

Once Jack stepped into his office, he knew that Samantha had not kept what had happened a secret. No, she had informed the whole world, it seemed. "The Maggie Mulcahey case was a good choice," he commented casually. Sadly, he reached carefully for his sidearm and badge and laid them on his desk.

Four pairs of eyes watched his actions with daggers. Two just watched impassively. Once his hand was free from the gun, one of the policemen secured his arms behind him with handcuffs. The other officer read from a small card, "John Michael Malone, you are under arrest for the stalking and aggravated sexual assault of Samantha Anne Spade. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

"Yeah, I understand," his voice was gruff.

Victor Fitzgerald gave the former agent a look that would peel paint, "I hope you have a good attorney, Malone. The Bureau will not back you on this."

"Yeah."

The police led him from his own office and out into the hallway. Jack lifted his head long enough to see Martin, Danny and Vivian standing shoulder to shoulder. All three were better actors than he had given them credit. Now, he could clearly see the anger on all their faces whereas before, they all looked hard at work on a case. He could see Danny's hands clenched into fists and wondered what would happen if he were left alone in an interrogation room with the 'big brother.' 'Big brother?' God that would be a cakewalk compared to what would happen if he were left alone with the boyfriend! And Vivian? Their protector? She'd be the worst. No, better to let the legal system mete out his fate rather than his former co-workers and friends. Jack let his head drop back down and watched the floor pass under his feet.

The two attorneys followed the crazy parade. They would follow Jack to the jail in the basement and make sure there were no screw-ups in his processing. The last thing Samantha needed was for Jack to win on a technicality.

Martin laid a hand on Danny's shoulder once the elevator doors closed, "Relax man," he whispered. It wasn't that Martin wasn't just as angry; only that he knew Danny would have a heart attack if he kept it all inside.

"Just two minutes," Danny replied in a low, angry growl, "That's all I want. Two minutes alone with him."

"Me first," Vivian spit out venomously, surprising the other two. "What? You don't think I'd do anything to him?" her eyes filled, "You didn't see what I saw. How he hurt her; what Mari and I had to ask her to do and then to re-live it just hours later by telling us." She shook her head, "You didn't see, and, I'm sorry to say this, but you'll never fully understand," she would have elaborated, but the past few days caught up with her and in a wholly un-Vivian characteristic action, burst into tears.

Moving out of shock first, Martin went to her and hugged her tightly, "I'm sorry, Viv! I'm so sorry I called you and…"

"No," her voice muffled by his shirt, "don't be sorry, Martin. Samantha needed a friend—a woman friend." She pulled back, wiping her face, "Sam's been there for me when I needed her. It was only fair that I be there for her. It was just really hard."

Victor and Paula watched them from the doorway. There was no way this team could function two bodies short and in their current state of mind. Victor nodded to Paula and strode over to the huddled team, "I'm giving you all this week off—with pay. I'll give Samantha as long as she needs. But right now, the three of you need to take the week and recover," he informed them in a quiet voice that conveyed concern but also brooked no argument. "Every member of this team has been victimized and you all need time to find your balance again."

Paula added, "To appease my conscious, I'd like all of you to see," she tipped her head to Martin, "or continue seeing Dr. Harris."

Danny and Vivian just nodded. They both knew she could help them make sense of what happened and perhaps even move past it.

Martin also nodded before adding, "Thanks, Dad."

"It was the least I could do. Please keep me informed about Samantha," Victor started towards the elevators before turning, "And don't forget to call your mother."

"I won't. Bye, Dad," Martin checked his watch, "I'm going to go spring Sam. She has to want to get out of there by now."

Danny actually chuckled, "I'm surprised you managed to keep her there this long."

"No kidding," Martin returned his grin. "Viv? You and Danny want to come over to my place later for dinner?"

"Are you sure Samantha won't mind?" Vivian wiped the last traces of tears.

He shook his head, "Nope. It was her idea this morning. Come about 6?"

"You bet," Vivian smiled.

"Tell Hot Stuff I'm bringing my jammies for a sleepover," Danny quipped.

Martin shook his head, "No. No sleepovers for you, you snore!"

* * *

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who's reviewing! I really appreciate that you take the time!


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

'_Dinner had been a good idea_. _Having her team—her friends—welcome her home, well, there just wasn't anything else like it,_' Samantha thought as she got ready for bed, the lock firmly in place on the bathroom door. It wasn't like Martin hadn't seen her naked—he just hadn't seen what J—ja, '_Damn it, I can't even think his name!_', had done. Sam shook her head at herself and pulled on a tank top and shorts to sleep in. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and opened the tube of toothpaste. Suddenly, the smell of it reminded her of _his_ breath hot on her neck and she dropped the tube in horror. She cried out and sank to the floor, her sobs echoing off the tile.

Martin was in the bedroom, giving Samantha the privacy she needed, yet staying close if she needed him more. He had already changed into a pair of pajama pants and was lounging on the bed trying to read the sports section. His eyes didn't register the words, the small noises from the bathroom loud in his ears. All of a sudden he heard something hit the floor. That sound was quickly followed by Sam's cry and then the sound of her sobbing. Martin didn't even try to get her to open the door for him. He just grabbed an old credit card and slipped it between the lock and doorjamb, opening the door slowly.

"I've got you, Sam," he scooped her off the cold floor and carried her to the bed. Martin tried to set her down, but she clung to him too tightly. Grateful for the fact she trusted him enough not to hurt her, he turned and sat on the bed holding her nearly as tightly as she to him. He rocked her and whispered, "I've got you now. He can't hurt you anymore. I'm here, Sam."

"Don't let go!" she whispered in his ear, her sobs quieter now.

"Not as long as you need me," he replied. Martin reached back and pulled the covers down. He swiveled and managed to get them both all the way on the bed. Using a foot, he pulled the covers back up and once he could reach them, over them both, relaxing into the pillows.

She didn't say anything more, but continued to cry softly. It didn't take long, maybe fifteen minutes, before he felt her completely relax into slumber. Martin decided to take the opportunity to turn off the rest of the apartment lights and make sure the place was secure for the night. He started to move from under her and felt her hand grab his, "Don't leave me alone!"

"I'm not, Sam," he cuddled her close, "I just need to turn out the living room lights and check the front door. I'll be right back. I promise." Martin kissed her forehead and gently pulled his hand from hers.

"Don't go, please?" she looked up at him, her eyes large.

Martin caressed her good cheek, "How about I sing to you while I'm out there? So you know it's me." Not that he was a great singer by any means, but he'd do anything to make her feel safe.

"'You Are the Sunshine of My Life'?" she suggested with a sly grin. Sam had walked in one morning while Martin was showering and laughed aloud to hear him sing that song. When she pulled back the curtain, he just smiled and said it reminded him of her.

"Sure," he smiled back at her and began to sing, "You are the sunshine of my life, that's why I'll always be around. You are the apple of my eye, forever you'll stay in my heart." By the time he reached the second time through the chorus, he was back in the bedroom. It didn't escape his notice that she was clutching the blanket tight with her good hand. He finished the song softly, settling under the covers next to her. "Good-night, sweetheart."

Sam dropped her death grip on the covers and cuddled close, keeping her left hip off the bed. She needed the emotional support he offered, but didn't want to risk hurting herself further. Laying her head in the crook of his neck, she answered softly, "Night, Marty."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who's reading and reviewing! You all make my day!!

Disclaimer: I only have a basic working knowledge of psychology. I am not a psychologist and any errors are my own.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Despite the fact that he wasn't due to see Dr. Harris until 10, and Samantha not until 11, Martin was wide awake at his usual time. He tried to go back to sleep to no avail. He opened his eyes and watched Sam sleep. Sometime during the night, she had pulled away from his body but kept contact with her hand in his and their feet tangled together. Her face was serene. If she was dreaming, it was a pleasant one. After nearly a half an hour, Martin decided he wasn't going to go back to sleep and opted for a shower. Carefully pulling his hand from hers, he decided she was still deep enough in slumber that he could leave her for a few minutes.

He didn't dawdle in the shower as Sam could wake at any moment. Martin gave himself one final rinse before shutting off the water. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he opened the door and listened. He couldn't hear anything from the bedroom so he turned back to the sink to shave. A few minutes later, Martin had one leg in his jeans when he heard Sam shriek. He quickly pulled them up the other leg and went to her.

Stepping fully into the bedroom, Martin could see Samantha was caught in a nightmare. She was struggling against the sheets and crying. Over and over she was begging, "Stop! Please, stop!"

"Sam?" Martin shook her shoulder gently. "Samantha? Wake up, sweetheart! Come on, Sam, wake up now!"

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a deep breath.

"Sam?" Martin moved to hold her.

"No, don't! Please," Sam backed away from him holding her arms up. She knew she was safe, that it was Martin with her and not Jack; but the lingering images from her nightmare were too strong. Samantha needed to come back to herself before she could let him touch her.

Martin wasn't hurt or angry she didn't want him to touch her. Ever since Friday night, he had been pleasantly shocked she had let him so close. "It's ok, Sam. I'm here when you need me." He watched the nightmare recede from her face and the quiet tears start to run down her cheeks. Without a word, Martin moved the box of tissue closer.

She could still feel _him_, on her, over her, hurting her. Sam shuddered and tried to remember how Martin's touch felt. She shuddered again and felt her stomach lurch and her skin crawl. She had to get _his_ touch off her skin! Without a word, she scrambled off the bed and dashed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, but not locking it this time. Before she could turn on the water, she heard Martin, "I'm going to make some coffee. I'll be right back."

Once in the shower, Sam quickly and cautiously lathered her hair and rinsed, wincing only slightly as she encountered all the small cuts on her scalp. She was careful to use mostly her right arm. Even though her left wrist wasn't broken, it was certainly tender and sore. Once she had taken care of her hair, she grabbed the bottle of body wash. She wasn't sure if she'd ever feel clean again, but she had to try. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the tangy aroma of the grapefruit gel. Sam squeezed out a generous dollop onto a puff and worked up a lather. She started on her arms, but when she moved to her torso, she stopped cold. Dropping the puff, she fingered the bite marks on her breast and felt the tears start anew. Her other hand strayed to the bruising on her stomach, feeling the edges and noticing the color starting to turn a deeper purple in the center and slightly yellow on the borders. She lost control and sank down, her tears mixing with the gentle spray of the shower.

Once in the kitchen, Martin started the pot of coffee and got the bagels out. He toasted them and by the time he had the tray ready with the bagels, cream cheese and some fruit, the coffee was ready. He poured two mugs and took the whole tray into the bedroom. For the time being, Martin put the tray on the dresser—it was safer there than on the bed. He put an ear to the bathroom door to check on Sam. Martin could hear the water running, but underneath, there was something else. Pushing the door open, he identified the sound, uncontrolled sobbing.

Martin grabbed a large towel and reached over Samantha to turn off the water. "Come here, sweetheart," he wrapped the towel around her and gently scooped her into his arms. "I've got you," he whispered. He sat her on the bed and began to gently dry her.

Sam just watched him, her eyes big. She wanted to tell him how grateful she was, but the words stuck in her throat.

As Martin dried her, he finally got a look at what Jack had done to her body. She hadn't let him see the damage Jack had wreaked before and Martin now struggled to rein in his anger. The extent of bruising alone was enough to make him want to punch a wall, but the bite marks made his blood boil. What in the hell had possessed Jack to bite her?

Still struggling to control his anger, Martin went to the dresser and pulled out some clothes for her. With the bruising on her ribs, a bra was out of the question. Instead, Martin opted for one of his old college shirts, well worn and now soft as down. He pulled it over her head and kissed her forehead softly. He watched a small smile form and one of her hands fingered the hem of the crimson shirt. Silently, he helped her into a pair of panties and sweats with a wide waistband. Sure, a little informal for reporting for work, but they weren't doing that this week. This week was all about healing. And healing took precedence over fashion.

Her eyes spoke volumes to him. Martin could see that she was grateful for his presence and gentleness. As he turned back to the dresser, Martin let himself scowl in anger. Jack Malone had to pay for what he had done. Not just to Samantha, but to them all, the whole team. Smoothing out his face, he brought the tray to the bed and set it carefully between them. Martin watched Sam carefully sip the coffee and saw how she only ate the bagel on one side of her mouth.

Nearly an hour later Martin broke the silence with a soft sigh, "We'd better get going, Sam." He took the tray to the kitchen and was happily surprised to find Sam behind him, sneakers in hand and a sweatshirt over her arm. She finished getting dressed on the sofa and took his offered hand.

On the way to the office, Martin's thoughts ran the gamut from rage to worry. Samantha's silence didn't bother him, but it did make him think. Was she going to completely shut down now? Was she going to retreat into her shell and shut him out? Only the suddenly still motion of the cab brought Martin out of his thoughts. He paid the driver and led Sam into the building.

At nearly ten in the morning, most of the other agents Martin and Samantha knew were hard at work on their own floors and by heading straight to Lisa Harris' office were able to make their way without running into anyone. They even managed to avoid Vivian—or she managed to avoid them—for by the time Martin knocked on Lisa's door, she was alone.

Lisa showed Samantha a quiet room where she could wait for her appointment. Sam noticed that neither Martin nor Lisa seemed bothered by her silence; and for that fact alone she was extremely grateful. There was so much going on in her head; she didn't feel like she could concentrate long enough to actually form speech. Following Lisa, Sam's eyes didn't miss a thing. She saw the only entrance to the room was though Lisa's own office, and on one of the small tables scattered around the room, were tablets of paper and writing implements.

Once Lisa shut the door behind her, Sam helped herself to a yellow legal pad and a pen and sinking into a plush armchair, began to write. She wrote what she couldn't say. To Martin, she thanked him for all his love, presence, patience and support. To Danny, she wrote her thanks for his comic efforts to keep her sane and grounded. And to Vivian, she wrote her thanks and gratitude for all her support both during the past eleven weeks, but especially for last Friday night in the ER.

By the time Lisa was ready for her, Sam was contemplating a letter to her stalker and rapist. Sam clutched the pad to her chest and followed Lisa back to her office. She hadn't seen Martin leave and wondered where he was.

"Martin said he was going to go down to the MPU and give Danny and Vivian a hand. He'll be back before we're done," Lisa hadn't missed her patient's frantic looks around nor the sigh of relief upon learning Martin hadn't abandoned her. Lisa pointed at the pad, "What were you writing?"

"Letters," Samantha started softly. Having organized her thoughts on paper, Sam found it easier to speak, "I wrote to Martin, Danny and Vivian."

Dr. Harris nodded, "Are you going to share these letters with them?"

Sam shrugged.

"It's ok if you do and it's ok if you don't," Lisa offered, "Although, I think they would appreciate them—especially if you don't want to say the words aloud."

"Maybe I will," Sam smoothed the topmost page, understanding the subtext of what Lisa was saying. "It's been hard to put my thoughts into words today." She looked up at her federally funded therapist, "Did I scare Martin? I just couldn't make the words come out my mouth this morning."

"I don't know if I'd use the word 'scared,' but perhaps concerned," Lisa put her pen down and leaned forward, "Don't shut him out, Samantha. Don't shut out your friends who want to help you."

"What about the friend who hurt me? Can I shut him out?" Sam began to cry. "Why did he do it, Lisa? What did I do to send him over the edge?"

"I can't answer that, Samantha," Lisa handed her a box of tissue. "They haven't let me see him because I'm treating you and the rest of your team." She glanced at the pad in her patient's lap, "Did you write to him too?"

Sam shook her head, "I was thinking about it, but I don't even know where to start."

"Well, I want you to do it. Call it homework before our session tomorrow. Write to him, Samantha. Tell him how he hurt you and what you'd like to happen to him. Write whatever comes to mind and we'll talk about it tomorrow," Lisa took the pad from her lap and set it aside. "But right now, I want to work on a technique called 'directed dreaming.' We're going to take charge of your dreams and, if all goes well, you won't wake up screaming. Now, without sounding terribly clichéd, could you lie down on the sofa for me? Comfortable?" Lisa watched her patient relax into the soft contours.

"Now, go ahead and close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice. We're going to give your subconscious clues about dreaming. First, I want you to picture a place where you feel safe," Dr. Harris waited a few moments and was relieved to see a small smile come to Samantha's face. "Where are you?"

"In Martin's arms, on a beach," Sam answered quietly, "It's warm and sunny and I can hear the ocean."

"Good work," Lisa pulled a chair closer, and picked up a small paperweight. "Samantha, I'm going to give you a shell," she put the paperweight into her patient's hand, "Now, I want you to put the shell down and walk down the beach with Martin away from the shell."

Dr. Harris watched as Samantha set the 'shell' on the couch and let her go with the imagery for several minutes. "Do you still feel safe?"

"Um-hm," her eyes still closed.

"Is Martin still with you?"

"Yes," Sam answered with a smile and curled her hand around 'his'.

"Are you very far from the shell?"

Sam turned her head trying to 'see' the shell, "Yes, I can't see it anymore."

Dr. Harris chose her next words with care, "Samantha, that really isn't a shell. Those are your memories of what Jack did to you during the past eleven weeks. You and Martin are walking away from them. You can't see them any more and they can't hurt you on the beach."

"Shells don't walk," Samantha murmured.

"That's right," Lisa smiled. Sam was really on the beach in her mind. "You and Martin have walked away from the shell and it can't follow you. Are you tired Samantha?"

Sam nodded.

"Why don't you and Martin stop and take a nap on the beach?" Lisa reached for a blanket and covered her patient. "You don't need to sleep for long, Samantha. Just take a quick nap."

"'K."

Dr. Harris let Samantha sleep long enough to test her training in directed dreaming. "Samantha, time to wake up. Samantha, nap time's over."

"Don't want a sunburn," Sam muttered.

"Nope, too painful. Wake up now, Samantha," Dr. Harris touched her shoulder gently and watched her eyes open, "What do you think?"

Samantha sat up slowly, wincing a little at the bruises, but when she met Lisa's eyes, she was smiling, "I can do that by myself?"

"Yes, you can. All it will take now, is for you to think 'beach with Martin' and you'll be there. The shell holding your memories as far down the beach as you can walk."

"Then," Samantha smiled widely, ignoring the ache in her left cheek, "I think I like it a lot!"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"I thought I saw you head down here," Danny commented to Martin a few days later in the gym. He made sure to stay in Martin's line of vision. The way he was attacking the heavy bag gave Danny pause. "You know, that isn't going to turn into Jack."

Martin continued his steady rhythm with the bag, "It might not, but my imagination's doing a pretty good job."

Danny moved closer to the bag and held it steady. "Is it really working? Pretending that it's Jack?"

Martin didn't say anything for a few moments, his hits slowing down, "No. Not really." Martin let his hands hang by his sides and he breathed heavily, "But what I wouldn't give that it really were Ja—_him_!" he spat the last word.

"How's Sam?" Danny asked quietly.

Martin shrugged and made his way to a bench. He sank down and held his hands out to Danny. Sighing loudly as Danny undid the laces of his gloves, Martin began, "Do you remember the Grady case; just a couple of weeks before _he_ started stalking her? How strong and in control she was?"

Danny nodded, "I remember. Why?"

"'Cause I think it will be a long time before you see her again."

"It's that bad?" Danny asked in a whisper.

Nodding hard, "Yeah, it is." Martin ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, "She hardly eats or sleeps. And when she does sleep, the nightmares don't let her sleep for long. And the worst of it is, she never can be—or wants to be—alone."

"So, where is she now?"

"In a session with Dr. Harris. I've got about twenty minutes left before I have to pick her up."

"And you?" Danny hadn't missed the dark circles under his friend's eyes, "How are you?"

Martin looked at him with an 'I'm fine' poised on his lips, but it wouldn't come. Instead, he sighed heavily and admitted, "_'How am I?_' I don't know. I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

Danny laid a hand on his shoulder, "What do you mean?"

"You'd do anything for her, right? 'Cause she's your sister?" Martin waited for Danny to nod, "I'd do anything for her too. I just don't know what to do. She doesn't know what she wants me to do! How do you help someone who doesn't know how to be helped? How can I comfort her when I can't touch her? I'm all over the place, Danny!" He got up to pace and ended up in front of the speed bag. "But mostly," Martin added, "I'm pissed off! What the hell possessed our friend, our boss to torture a fellow agent? What in the hell was he thinking?" And superimposing Jack's face on the leather surface, Martin began to hit the bag in an uneven rhythm.

"I don't know what to tell you, man," Danny said between blows. "I'm pissed off too and all I can say is—I'll listen. I'll hold the heavy bag for you if you'll hold it for me. Hell, man, I'll even spar with you in a ring if you want."

Martin stopped hitting the bag but forgot to stop its motion and nearly got a face full of leather. Ducking his head out of the way last minute, he gave his partner a grateful look, "Thanks, Danny. Getting into a ring doesn't sound appealing—unless it was with Jack, so I could beat the shit out of him. But, thanks man. That we can help each other through this, well, I couldn't ask for a better friend—or brother."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Seven weeks later, Jack found himself following Ed Felder, his attorney, into a conference room on his old floor. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, grateful to be wearing his own clothes and not prison garb. The US Attorney's office had contacted Ed and set up this meeting just two days prior. The trial was set to begin next week, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why they wanted a meeting now. The gentle whirl of Ed's wheelchair stopped and Jack realized they had arrived. He looked up and saw the two prosecuting attorneys seated at the table, a stenographer tucked into the corner…and Martin, his arm around Samantha's shoulder, seated on the couch behind the attorneys. The two FBI police who had escorted them took their stations just outside the door.

Martin watched his former boss as he came into the conference room with a cool eye. There was just a little left of the powerful man who had taught him so much about finding missing people. His cheeks were hollow and his shoulders stooped. It seemed to Martin that Jack had lost several pounds in the past seven weeks.

Alexa Tafoya stood and shook Ed Felder's hand, "Thank you for coming this afternoon. Please note all parties present and accounted for," she directed the last to the stenographer who had her fingers poised over her special keyboard.

"Anything we can do for the US Attorney's Office," Ed replied, tugging Jack into the seat next to the open space left for his wheelchair. "Although I am surprised to be called to a meeting this close to the trial date."

"No more than I was to ask for the meeting," Alexa responded honestly.

Ed frowned, "I don't get it. Who called for the meeting then?"

"I did," Samantha said quietly. "I need some answers so I can sleep at night. Answers only your client can answer." She refused to even look in Jack's direction. She kept her entire focus on the mildly amused face of his attorney. Lisa's directed dreaming only worked for so long. Samantha found herself able to maintain the direction as long as it took to fall asleep, but once she was asleep, her subconscious didn't want to take any direction other than its own.

"And if he chooses to answer Ms. Spade's questions?" Ed directed his question to the attorney, but kept his gaze on the object of his client's obsession. He could see she wasn't lying when she said she couldn't sleep; the dark circles under her eyes were prominent despite her attempts to use make-up and the bruise on her left cheek had faded to an ugly green and yellow. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but it hung limply and was dull in color. To make matters worse, he could see the brace still on her left wrist peeking from her jacket sleeve and her black suit hung on her frame, emphasizing the quantity of weight she had lost. He really hoped there was a good deal about to be put on the table because if Samantha Spade took the stand in her current condition, any jury in the world would throw the book at Jack.

Alexa moved a piece of paper, stalling for time as she took in Ed Felder's scrutiny of Samantha. "Well, if Mr. Malone chooses to answer the questions _and_ accept the following terms, he'll serve his sentence in the Federal Correctional Institution Pekin, in Illinois."

Ed swung his gaze to the younger attorney, "What terms?"

Meagan opened a folder, "Mr. Malone will agree to serve the minimums for each count consecutively. That's 5 years for the aggravated sexual assault and 2 more for the stalking. And no parole, with sentences to begin immediately following Judge Lowder's approval."

"Wait a minute," Felder pulled open his own folder. "The stalking is a Class D, non-violent felony. Jack has no prior record; he shouldn't have to serve any time on that."

"Alternatively," Tafoya interjected, "we could go to trial next week and push for the maximums. That's twenty-five years alone for the sexual assault." She looked to the man who had put this entire chain of events into motion, "What do you say, Mr. Malone?"

"Illinois?" Jack wasn't sure why they'd agree to send him there.

Samantha kept her eyes trained on the lawyer, "I called Maria. She said you were in Chicago the weekend you…that weekend. She said she noticed something was wrong, but saw how much the girls seemed to help you. I wanted her to know what happened in case she wanted to…to…I don't know, move or something," she shrugged and wiped under her eyes. "Maria said if you were nearby, she wouldn't keep the girls from you."

Ed leaned forward, "_Maria_ said that?" Before Jack went off the deep end, Ed had been helping him prepare to battle for custody of his daughters. After all the run-a-rounds and hassles Maria and her lawyer had been throwing at them, he was completely surprised that she would capitulate.

"I spoke with her myself yesterday," Alexa interjected. "She stands by what she told Agent Spade." She looked down at her notes and coughed lightly, "There is one more condition Mr. Malone would have to agree to—he is to have no further contact with Agents Spade or Fitzgerald and maintain a minimum ten mile distance at all times."

"What about Agents Taylor and Johnson?" Felder asked.

Meagan answered quietly, "That is up to them. At this time, neither has expressed a desire to sever communication completely."

"I'll need a min—," Felder started to say.

"No," Jack interrupted, "It's a fair deal. What do you want to know?" He looked at Martin's cool gaze and tried to catch Samantha's eye.

Up to this point, she had avoided making any eye contact with Jack. Hell, seven weeks later, she still couldn't get his name out of her mouth without stuttering. But now, now that she had the opportunity to ask him once and for all and then to never have to see or hear from him again, she managed to swing her gaze his direction. Samantha saw true regret in his eyes. Whatever had possessed him to stalk her now haunted him. '_Good_,' she thought, '_serves him right_.'

Martin grew concerned as the silence stretched from several seconds to almost a full minute. He moved his hand to Sam's back, rubbing gently. His other hand found its way to hers, clenched tightly in her lap. He'd give her a couple more seconds before dragging her out of the room.

With his hand on her back, she found the strength to ask the question that had been plaguing her ever since that fateful night, "Why, J—jack? Why did you do it?" her voice barely a whisper, teary and perplexed.

Once he understood the purpose of the meeting, Jack knew what her question would be. He only hoped his answer would be sufficient enough for her to move past the horrors he had inflicted upon her and that maybe, some day, she might even forgive him. "The month before you got the first box of flowers, Maria, Maria asked me not to come to Chicago for the first time. I had already bought the flowers for you, but then she said hateful things about you and I don't know what happened, but I intercepted them and let them die in my apartment.

"A month later, you said something to me—for the life of me I don't remember what—but I was so angry with you, I decided to send you the dead roses. It kind of snowballed from there. Every time someone higher up criticized me, I took it out on you. Every time Maria denied me time with the girls, I took it out on you. Every time I saw you with Martin, it twisted the knife a little more and I retaliated," he reached for a bottle of water and took a swallow.

Jack took a deep breath and prepared to tell the worst, "That night…when I took you home…just the day before, Maria filed for sole custody of the girls. I was hurt and angry and I wanted to feel like I did when we were together. I wanted to be with you because you made me feel happy. And with Maria, I hadn't felt happy in a long time." He dropped his gaze to the marred surface of the table, no longer able to look at Samantha. He had hurt her too much, "I know it isn't an excuse, Sam—antha, but I will take full responsibility for my actions. And, after today, neither you nor Martin will ever hear from me again." He swallowed hard, his gaze still on the table, "I know this won't mean much now, but I am sorry. Martin, Samantha, I am truly sorry."

Alexa Tafoya turned to ask quietly, "Is that enough Samantha? Martin?"

They both nodded and feeling Sam beginning to shake, Martin led her from the room. He took her quietly to Vivian's new office and closed the door behind them. It had taken the better part of a week, but the entire MPU had been redecorated. The faux wood paneling and black surfaces had been replaced with brushed nickel and real oak. Vivian herself had decorated the SAC's office, and the results were still completely professional, full of FBI personality but with a decided feminine touch.

Taking advantage of that feminine touch, Martin sank into the beige leather couch and pulled Sam onto his lap. "You're the bravest woman I know," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you!"

_The past seven weeks hadn't been easy. Danny, Vivian and Martin took full advantage of their week off to see Dr. Harris and try to reconcile the man they knew as their team leader, mentor and friend with the person he had become. It hadn't been effortless. _

_For Martin, the decision to never have any further contact with Jack Malone was the only decision he could make in good conscious. Jack had turned the woman he loved into someone who still cried in her sleep and was fearful to be left alone._

_Danny and Vivian returned from their week off determined to change their environment. They spearheaded the campaign to redecorate, and once approved, followed through on every detail. Paula Van Doren and Victor Fitzgerald held a public ceremony to promote Vivian to head the department once the remodel was done and both Marcus and Reggie stood proudly behind her that day, just three weeks after Sam's attack. Sam had been at the ceremony. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," she said. It was her first day back as a working agent and Vivian toasted __her__ after the ceremony._

_For Samantha, coming back into the building was a necessary part of her routine. For the first week after her attack, she bypassed the MPU floor completely, only going to Lisa's. A couple of times the following week she stopped by the floor to check on remodeling, but never managed to stay very long. Until the old look was completely gone, it was difficult to be there. _

_As for her apartment, she chalked up the deposit of her last month's rent as a total loss when she reneged on the lease she signed. During the week they all were off, Danny, Martin and Viv, along with Marcus, helped her move into Martin's. Someone, she never did find out who, had gone in before her and erased any trace of the attack. The bed was stripped bare__, the spilt wine cleaned from the carpet and the broken picture had been removed as well._ Even with that, Samantha found it exceedingly difficult to be in the same place where she had been attacked. She felt a surge of pity for women who had no choice but to live in the same place after being raped. 

Samantha continued to shake in Martin's arms. Confronting her attacker, her former boss, friend and lover had been one of the most difficult things she had ever done in her life. It had been harder than fighting with her mother, leaving Kenosha and divorcing her husband. Slowly the shakes gave way to the tears and the tears became full blown sobs. She wanted to tell Martin how much she loved him, how much she appreciated his steady presence and how much she never wanted him out of her life.

When she started to shake, Martin knew the tears weren't far behind. He, too, wanted to weep for the nightmare Jack had made their lives. For the nightmares Samantha still suffered. Sure, they weren't as frequent or as strong as they had been, but she still had them nonetheless. Martin held her tight and let her soak his shoulder. He whispered that he loved her and how brave she was and how proud he and Danny and Vivian were. Martin wasn't even sure she heard him until she pulled in one last shuddering breath before speaking.

"I love you," she whispered, her breath tickling his neck. "I love you so much and I'm so grateful you've been with me!"

Martin pulled her back, taking her face into his hands, "I love you too, Sam."

She mirrored his posture, taking his face in her hands and leaned forward, kissing him lightly. It was the first time Samantha had initiated anything intimate since her attack. "I meant everything I wrote and more," she said, pulling back from the kiss. "I would have curled into a little ball and died if it weren't for you, Martin!" She kissed him again, deeper, this time.

When she pulled back he shook his head, "No, you wouldn't have died, Sam. You're stronger than that."

Samantha would have continued to argue, but a knock at the door interrupted them. "Sorry guys," Danny poked his head in, "Viv says she needs her office to interview newbies, but you two are free to go for the day."

"Take me home?" Sam asked with a glint in her eye Martin hadn't seen in a long time.

* * *

Hey, thanks to all my loyal readers and reviewers!! This is the penultimate chapter, so thanks for reading all this time! And I hope you've enjoyed!


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N - Sorry for the delay in giving you all this last chapter. Real life--getting Seniors out of school, getting underclassmen ready for their final exams, trying to find the floor of my classroom, getting my first nephew!!--it all took over my life for a while. But, the Seniors are done and the finals are written. Now all I have to do is give them!! So without further ado..._

* * *

**Chapter 26**

"You're sure about this?" Martin asked once they reached their apartment. "I don't want to hurt you, Sam."

She just smiled in his arms, "The bruises are fading. I only wear the brace at work to remind myself not to push it with the wrist," she shrugged, "So, unless you want it rough, you can't hurt me, Martin."

He leaned down and kissed her lightly, "Rough isn't how I want to be with you right now. I just want to show you how much I love you."

Samantha reached up and laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. When they came up for air, she whispered, "Show me!"

Without a word, he picked her up and carried her off to the bedroom. He set her gently on the bed and kicked off his own shoes while he pulled hers off. He tossed hers somewhere over his shoulder and was rewarded with her throaty laugh. When he leaned over to kiss her, she grabbed his tie and held him there, the kiss becoming a war for dominance between their tongues. Gasping for air, they both broke at the same time, smiles wide and panting the only soundtrack. "Show me more, Martin!"

His hands fumbled with her zippers and buttons; her hands just as frantic to find his skin. They lay side-by-side, touching and kissing. Martin's hands strayed to the curls between her legs and he was relentless in teasing her, pausing only when she squealed his name in frustration. He held her wrists above her head, looked into her eyes and panicked, "Sam?"

She swallowed her momentary fear and smiled up at him, "I'm ok, Martin." She pulled her wrists free and brought his head down for a kiss. "I think you'll just have to put up with me touching you."

The last thing Martin wanted was to remind her of that night, and his blood cooled. He slowed his hands and just focused on kissing her breathless.

Sam could tell that he was horrified at causing her flashbacks, but damn it, he worked her to a pitch and now she wanted him to follow through. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. His gasp at her touch made her smile and she continued to stroke the length of him until he was shaking. "Show me more!"

He touched her until she was panting once again. Her nails lightly scratched his back and silently urged him on. Martin kissed her deeply as he slid into her. It was gentle and slow, until that final moment when they both found their release.

"I've never been shown better, Marty," Sam whispered.

"I love you, Sam," Martin answered as he pulled her close.

Samantha laid her head on his shoulder before whispering, "I love you, too!"

* * *

'_That was the turning point_,' Martin mused a year and a half later. '_That was the day Samantha stopped being a victim. Oh, sure, she had been victimized, but after that day of confronting Jack and having the knowledge that they would never have to see him again, it freed her. She still had nightmares, especially when she was over-tired or a case hit a little too close to home, but for the most part, after that day, Samantha was back to her old ways._' Martin adjusted the bow tie under his chin and gratefully took the handkerchief from Danny.

"You're sweating like a pig," Danny grinned, "Are you nervous or something?"

Martin wiped his brow and tucked the cloth into his pocket, "Terrified!"

Danny draped an arm around Martin's shoulders, "Relax, man. She loves you. You love her. She said she'd marry you and in about," he checked his watch, "fifteen minutes, you'll see her and forget all about your nerves."

"You sound like you know something," Martin shot his partner a look.

"Who? Me?" Danny just grinned and patted his back. "Why don't you go take your place over by the pastor and I'll get Sam."

Ten months ago, after Martin proposed, Sam asked if she could have Danny walk her down the aisle—essentially robbing Martin of a best man. Knowing Danny was her 'big brother,' how could he refuse? So he asked his old college roommate to be his best man and let Danny have the honor of escorting Samantha.

True to his word, exactly fifteen minutes later, accompanied by 'Because You Loved Me' by Celine Dion, Danny escorted Samantha down the aisle. Martin couldn't take his eyes off her. Her hair was in loose curls, with just a bit pulled away from her face, just the way he liked it. The veil could do nothing to hide the radiant smile on her face. He had seen Samantha in a dress before, but never had he seen her look as lovely as she did today. The off-white shade complemented her better than a pure white. The dress started just off her shoulders and clung to her torso, flowing free at the waist. As she walked, Martin could see the delicate pattern of flowers—calla lilies, just like her bouquet—embroidered in beads that caught the light. If any other bride looked more beautiful than Samantha, she didn't yet exist.

"Relax, Sam," Danny muttered out the side of his mouth. "This isn't a race!"

Samantha covered her laughter with a quick kiss to Danny's cheek as they reached the end of the aisle, "I know it wasn't a race," she whispered in his ear, "I just didn't want to make Martin wait any longer!"

Danny chuckled softly, "As long as you're happy, Sam!"

Lights danced in her eyes as Danny helped her pull the veil over her head, "I've never been happier in my life!"

* * *

_Well, this is the end, kids! I hope the ending met with your expectations and that you'll sleep soundly. Thanks for coming with me on this journey!_

_Respectfully submitted, _

_RRSherlock_


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